


life is not a love song (we can try to fix our broken pieces one at a time)

by sobsicles



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bad coping mechanisms, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Codependency, Deep Talks about Mental Health and Death and The World, Diverges from Season 3a, Eventual Good Coping Mechanisms, Fluff, Healing, Introspection, Jace is having a bad time, Just Deep Talks Period tbh, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Panic Attacks, So much angst, greiving, seriously so much fluff, take care of yourselves everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 60,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sobsicles/pseuds/sobsicles
Summary: Jace thinks, like a flower withering and dying, that he will ruin every single thing he loves, or alternatively, that he already has.Jace is dangerous and shaking like a leaf.~~~Simon is not okay, Jace isn't either.They keep breathing, they survive.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay my lovelies, I am back again with another long, chapter fic. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> I have no idea why I'm like this, but here we go again. 
> 
> Should mention: This fic has some very heavy themes dealing with Mental Issues and Mental Health, and it's certainly not all bad, but it does have its rough spots. This was a good outlet for me to work through some stuff, while also getting to delve into how these characters were effected by such things they've experienced. 
> 
> Should warn: There are mentions of characters being dead (but not really, so its ok), mentions of characters talking about contemplating/attempting suicide, and characters not processing grief in a healthy way. 
> 
> Also, yes, the title of this fic comes from the song: Broken, by lovelytheband (I like that you're broken, broken like me; yeah, that one).
> 
> Lastly, please please PLEASE be safe. I love you all, tread lightly and enjoy! ❤

See, the thing is, Jace isn't okay. 

 

When it's all said and done, they all go home. Izzy is limping, Alec's breath rattles from him because of the wound  _ Jace  _ gave him, Magnus looks lost without his magic, Luke's arm is practically torn to shreds, and Simon has a dazed look in his eyes that tells the whole world that he isn't leaving this night as the same person who went into it. 

 

Clary is dead. 

 

Jace  _ knows  _ that's supposed to make him feel more than he does. It's a hollow ache, a heavy hit, a great loss - he feels that perfectly fine. But when his heart shatters, it is not because he lost the love of his life. It's because he lost a friend, a family member. 

 

He doesn't know how to explain it, so he says nothing as they all trek back to the institute. He's aware that he should be just as empty as Simon, if not more, and he  _ is.  _ But there's something missing within him. Needless to say, Magnus’ potion was absolutely not a joke. 

 

Jace does not love Clary anymore, not romantically at least. Everything else - the bond they shared, their instant connection that existed outside of their romance, the comfort her presence brought - it's all still very much there. Losing her, losing that, it feels like the very definition of sin. He's lost someone important, but the most tragic part is that he loses her in a way that does not do her justice. 

 

Sure, Jace remembers everything they did together. He remember touching her, kissing her, craving her. But looking back… it's as if someone wrapped all of those memories of being in love in saran wrap and pulled until it drained of meaning. He knows, realistically, that he was in love with Clary, can feel that empty piece like he's wearing his shirt inside out, but it's barely a discomfort. 

 

That's not even the thing that messes him up the most. What weighs on his mind and ruins him is that every single thing is his fault. Clary's death, his friend's injuries, the fact the world as they know it has shifted and can't ever be fixed… it's his  _ fault. _

 

Jace's hands shake. 

 

“Infirmary,” Izzy declares quietly, that one word directed to the group as a whole. 

 

Simon shifts in the hall, like he's ready to bolt. “I- I need to- I have to-” 

 

Jace is suddenly struck with the feeling of utter terror that as soon as everyone leaves his sight, he'll end right back up in front of Lilith, awaiting her kiss and another order. His hands shake harder, eyes blurring. He doesn't know if this is real. 

 

“Don't,” he chokes out, making Simon freeze in place. “Please…  _ don't.  _ I can't- I'm not-” 

 

Magnus hugs him. 

 

Jace doesn't know why that surprises him. Despite what his alter ego spat with his own lips, Jace doesn't actually think Magnus holds any resentment towards him. But as Magnus slides an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close, body seeming so frail now that it doesn't thrum with power, Jace feels as if the world will never make sense again. 

 

“Okay,” Simon croaks. “Okay.” 

 

They all go to the infirmary. Alec is seen to first, his injury a bit more worrying because of the placement of it. Jace's parabatai rune stings harshly when they cauterize the wound. Alec grits his teeth and holds Magnus’ hand as it happens. 

 

Luke's only help is gauze and juice to keep him from passing out from the blood loss. He'll heal though. He's a wolf, so he'll be fine within a couple of days. He absently bitches about a cover story he'll have to come up with, but his eyes are vacant and his words are robotic, like it's not actually him that's talking. Jace's stomach recoils when he thinks about the fact that Luke just lost his daughter. 

 

Izzy's as simple as her healing rune and a roll of her ankle. She leans her head over on Simon's shoulder, her eyes drooping as the healer moves the tendons of her foot back into working order. 

 

Simon, Magnus, and Jace are injured in their own ways; none of those injuries can be healed with whatever the infirmary can offer. 

 

In fact, all of them are messed up right now. When they leave after, they linger in the hallway and stare at the walls without looking at each other. Jace remembers asking Izzy and Alec to kill him, remembers begging them, and he wishes they had. If they had just done it, Clary might still be alive, they all might not be so fucked up, and none of this would have happened. 

 

“Jace,” Alec says softly, “you should come to the loft with me and Magnus tonight.” 

 

“Yes,” Magnus agrees immediately. “I make a mean hot cocoa and have an endless selection of French movies without subtitles.” 

 

Jace doesn't know how that's supposed to help him. Whatever skewed vision Magnus has of what it takes to heal, Jace wants to no part of it. Mostly, he wants to stay as far away from everyone as he can while letting none of them out of his sight. 

 

He's scared. Jace hasn't been scared in a very long time. The last time he was scared is a memory he can't even fully appreciate. Clary had been seconds from having her head chopped off by a traitor; Jace had been terrified and so fiercely in love that he'd activated his runes on instinct. Jace feels like the memory isn't the same; it feels disconnected and fuzzy, like the events aren't adding up. 

 

But now, he's terrified. He's been in a constant state of terror since Lilith took control of him. He's never been this scared for this long in his entire life. 

 

The demon is slayed, Lilith is gone, and Jace is still so scared that he can't see straight. He thinks that he'll blink and have his hands around some mundie's throat, squeezing and pouring out Lilith's power as she wants him to. He thinks that he'll turn around and slit Izzy's throat because that's Lilith's will and this is just all a new scheme she's cooked up in his brain. He thinks, like a flower withering and dying, that he will ruin every single thing he loves, or alternatively, that he already  _ has.  _

 

Jace is dangerous and shaking like a leaf. 

 

“You can stay with me,” Luke offers carefully, face drawn as he eyes him shrewdly. “You look like you could use the rest and I- well, I still got my apartment until I have to steer clear.” 

 

“No,” Jace whispers, blinking. 

 

He can't do that, can't dare to impose on Luke in that way. He's the reason Luke has lost a child tonight. Luke, who's only ever been kind. Luke, who's tried to right the wrongs of his generation. Luke, who should rather him dead than Clary. 

 

“Stay here,” Izzy tells him firmly. “We'll climb into your bed, just like when we were kids. I'll even do little braids into your hair until you fall asleep.” 

 

Jace has the sudden stark image of multitudes of Clary's lifeless body strewn all over his room, bloody and irreversibly still by his hands. He misses her, he wishes he could miss her properly, he wishes he wasn't the reason she's dead. Lilith had been torturing him when she'd forced him to kill Clary over and over, but Jace thinks it might have been a prophecy of some sort. 

 

Jace's whole body rattles. “No.” 

 

He realizes it then. He has nowhere to go, nowhere that he can be without destroying  _ everything.  _ They all want to help him, to take him in and comfort him, like he's not the disaster they're still reeling from. None of them are safe, not a one of them knows how he needs them so this will be real. 

 

Then, Simon says, “Jace, stay with me.” 

 

At first, Jace goes to tell him  _ no  _ on principle alone. Not because he doesn't like Simon, but because he just took his best friend away, even if Simon hunches into himself like it's his doing. They're both carrying the same burden, believing the other to be free of it; they both think they killed Clary, they both think the other is reeling from the loss. Jace knows that Simon isn't okay, knows that Simon is well aware that he isn't either. 

 

What changes Jace's mind is Simon's forehead. More specifically, the mark that rests there, lighting only when endangered. It's suddenly the very thing Jace needs. He can have Simon, to remember that this is real, but he also can't  _ destroy  _ Simon, not without destroying himself - a welcome thought. 

 

So, Jace says, “Okay.” 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The apartment looks much the same as did the last time Jace was in it. That feels like a distant memory now, even if it wasn't all that long ago. 

 

Simon's movements are jerky, his hands shaking as he sifts through the fridge and gathers his thermos. Without saying a word, he takes three large gulps, eyes closed. Jace stands in the middle of the room and watches Simon ingest cold, thick blood. He doesn't feel disgusted, doesn't feel anything. 

 

“Dunno where Jordan is,” Simon murmurs when he's drained the blood from the cup. He blinks around the dim apartment. “He just- he comes and goes all the time now that I know who he really is. He keeps himself sparse after- after the thing with Maia. I'd offer you his room, but-” 

 

Jace cuts him off with, “I need to see you.” 

 

To his credit, Simon barely reacts. “Are you going to sleep at all tonight?” 

 

“No.” 

 

“Me neither.” 

 

“Simon,” Jace says cautiously, his throat working, dry and raw like sandpaper, “I need you to make me a promise, can you do that?” 

 

“Maybe,” Simon replies, hands turning the thermos over and over in hands. “Depends.” 

 

“On?” 

 

“On what it is.” 

 

“If-  _ when  _ I forget that this isn't real, I need you to remind me,” Jace whispers, dropping his gaze to his boots. “Because I don't- I can't- I'm not-” 

 

Simon's over to him in the blink of an eye, his thermos clattering to the floor in the kitchen he just vacated. “How? Tell me how.”

 

“I don't  _ know,”  _ Jace rasps, his hands shaking violently. It looks like there is blood running down his fingers. He can't be sure there isn't. “Simon, I- I don't know.” 

 

“Serendipity,” Simon says firmly, making Jace blink rapidly in confusion. “It basically means a chance, a happy accident. That's the word, okay? That's the word I'll say, and you'll know.” 

 

Jace swallows. “Serendipity,” he echoes. 

 

“Yeah,” Simon mutters. 

 

“Do you know why I'm here?” 

 

“Because we both loved her.” 

 

Jace's eyes sink closed. “No, Simon. I'm here because if I lose it, if I can't figure it out, I can't  _ hurt you.”  _

 

“The mark,” Simon murmurs, his hand slowly raising to touch his forehead when Jace opens his eyes. “You think- you're worried you're going to go off the rails and my mark will stop you.” 

 

“I'm banking on it.” 

 

“Please don't say that.  _ Please.  _ My mark has done enough. I- I don't want to kill anyone else, I don't want to kill you, I don't- I can't-” 

 

Jace reaches out and grabs Simon's wrist, ignoring his flinch. “You didn't kill Clary, Simon. And if I lose control, I  _ am  _ dangerous. Whatever happens to me, it won't be anything I don't deserve. If I attack you, I  _ want  _ the mark to stop me. You're probably the only one I feel safe around right now.” 

 

“Remember the word,” Simon tells him, his eyes wide and full of pleading. “Jace, if it's- if you're losing it, you  _ have  _ to tell me. If I'm the one you feel safe around, you're the one I'm going to keep alive. I couldn't with- I couldn't, and I'm not doing that again. So, you have to tell me or you have to leave.” 

 

Jace sucks in a deep breath, fingers falling away from Simon's wrist. “I'll tell you. I promise.” 

 

Then, Simon looks so utterly exhausted that Jace sways on his feet from the mere proximity. Wordlessly, they both move over to the couch and settle down on opposite ends. Jace knows they're worn out, know they're emotionally drained, and he also knows they won't sleep a wink. 

 

They don't. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


There's something to be said about Simon's determination to stick to his guns. When he'd said that he would be keeping Jace alive, he meant it literally, even at the bare minimum. 

 

At first, Jace barely notices. 

 

Simon's first act is to force them into sleep. They've both reached delirious levels of exhaustion, but Jace sees nothing but blood and a sharp grin from a mother claiming to be queen behind his eyelids. Simon seems to know, without even asking, that Jace hadn't been joking when he said that he needed to see him. Jace thinks that's why Simon brings out a large comforter and two more pillows to curl up with on the couch. 

 

“I haven't been sleeping,” Jace admits quietly, leaning back into the pillow warily. Simon's socked feet bump into his. “Even before I- before.” 

 

“Have you ever heard the rainforest?” Simon asks, sitting up from the couch to pad over to a stereo in the corner of the room. 

 

Jace frowns, watching him. “No.” 

 

Simon turns on the stereo and soft crickets drift through the room. There's the sound of rustling trees, twigs snapping, animals crooning. In the background, Jace hears a faint hum and the very distant sound of rain. 

 

“Do you like it?” Simon asks. 

 

“It's,” Jace searches for a word, goes with, “fine.” 

 

Simon casually moves back to the couch, sinking down on his end, sliding underneath the cover they're sharing. It reminds Jace of the sleepovers he used to have with Alec and Izzy, how they used to lay under one blanket as kids and talk about all the amazing adventures they'd go on once they grew up and got to be Shadowhunters for real. He wants to go back in time, wants to tuck them in, wants to tell them to slow down because what they get is not what they expected. 

 

“Serendipity,” Simon murmurs instead of  _ goodnight,  _ and Jace just swallows. 

 

He's scared to sleep, knows exactly what awaits him in his dreams. With good reason. He wakes up an hour and a half later with the faint feeling of a blade in his hands and a body at his feet. He bolts up with a hoarse shout, eyes shooting open. 

 

Simon jerks awake, sitting up and gripping his shoulders. Over and over, he says,  _ “Serendipity, serendipity, serendipity,”  _ and Jace listens to the sound of rain and swaying trees as Simon brings him back to the couch with one word on repeat.  

 

They wake up every hour and repeat the process, Simon never complains. 

 

Simon's next act is to force food into him. After they've slept the whole day away in intervals, Simon digs through the cabinets and makes him mac and cheese because that's all he has. Jace isn't hungry, tells him so, but Simon cooks in silence anyway. 

 

“That doesn't look edible,” Jace comments quietly when Simon sits a bowl in his hands. 

 

“Eat,” Simon replies firmly. 

 

Jace eats, but only because Simon goes and digs his own blood out of his room to eat with him. There's nothing appetizing about Simon drinking blood on the other end of the couch, but then again, it doesn't really matter because the mac and cheese isn't all that good either. Every bite tastes like ash, bland and sour, but Simon just waits for him to finish. 

 

Two hours later, after they sit on the couch in complete silence, Jace bolts to the bathroom and violently hacks up everything he just ate. Simon stands in the doorway, a bottle of water in his hands, and when Jace swishes his mouth out and drinks every drop, he fixes him another bowl of mac and cheese - it's a smaller amount this time, but Simon watches him eat every bite. 

 

“I'd rather soup.” Jace holds out the bowl with a scowl when he's done. “This tastes as bad going down as it did coming up.” 

 

Simon just darts away to drop the bowl in the sink, then back to sit on his end of the couch with a little frown. “It'll get easier. To keep down, I mean.” 

 

“Can I use your toothbrush?” Jace asks, grimacing at the acrid taste lingering in his mouth. 

 

“Yeah,” Simon says without missing a beat. 

 

Jace stands up and heads to the bathroom, pausing on his way to face Simon. “Can you- will you talk to me? You don't have to follow, just- just talk.” 

 

Simon rambles on about something that means nothing, stars and ninjas in the sky, and Jace acts like it's enough to keep him from hyperventilating as he brushes his teeth. When he comes back out and sees Simon on the couch, still babbling, the tension in his body slowly eases. 

 

Simon's following act of keeping him alive comes the following day. They slept on the couch again that night, waking up throughout the night. Jace had gasped and heaved deep breaths to the sound of the rainforest, and without fail, Simon had woken up with him to repeat that one word over and over. 

 

The next day, Simon gets up off the couch and opens a curtain. A gap of natural light barges into the room when Simon jerks the blinds up. Without a word, Simon waves him over to the window. Warily, Jace walks over and tries not to grimace when Simon guides him to stand front and center at the window. 

 

“People.” Simon points at the New Yorkers that mill about outside. He gestures to the sky. “Sunlight.” 

 

Jace glares at him. “I'm not a  _ plant,  _ and I'm not an idiot either.” 

 

For the first time in two days, Simon cracks a smile. 

 

That becomes their system over the following three days. Simon makes him sleep, even when he dreads it, even when it hurts. Simon makes him eat, giving him more noodles than he's ever had in his life, making sure he eats every bite. Simon makes him have contact with sunlight and the outside world at least twice a day, even if it's just through glass. 

 

Jace doesn't need to be told to take a shower; he wears Simon's loose clothes and doesn't comment on the fact that Simon's body wash comes in a pink bottle.  He doesn't have to be told to get up and stretch regularly; he grows restless more often than not and paces laps around the room - Simon sometimes walks with him without saying a word the whole time. He doesn't have to to be told to brush his teeth, or shave, or borrow Simon's deodorant. 

 

Jace can handle the hygiene, lets Simon worry about the rest of the basics. 

 

Simon, however, is not okay either. He's subdued, withdrawn, and more worryingly…  _ quiet.  _ He eats when Jace does, stands at the window when Jace does, gets the same amount of sleep Jace does. Sometimes, in fact, it's Simon's garbled shriek that wakes them instead of Jace's, and on that occasion, Jace just sits up and lets Simon grip his forearms hard enough to leave bruises. Jace hears Simon cry in the shower - he sits out in the hallway, watching Simon's silhouette through the open door, and he forces himself not to think that the moving shadow behind the shower curtain is Lilith. He sees how Simon goes distant and far away, like he's escaping within himself.

 

Simon is not okay, Jace isn't either. 

 

They both turn their phones off and exist together in mostly silence, going through the motions, finding comfort in the fact that they're both as fucked up as each other. 

 

They keep breathing, they survive. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's chapter one. I hope to get on a posting schedule; we shall see 👀 
> 
> Anywho, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so adore them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: hallucinations, panic attacks, separation anxiety. 
> 
> Be safe, babes.

A distant rational part of Jace knows that this should be weird, but he also knows why it isn't. They don't have enough energy or care or motivation to stop and consider how strange this is. 

 

It's not like Jace doesn't like Simon. He's annoying, sure, but it's in that dopey way that people like Jace pretend not to find amusing. Mostly, Jace's issues with Simon sprouted from the fact that he was just some mundane who didn't know anything about anything, but was still frustratingly  _ there.  _ Just, around all the time, in the way, following Clary around like some long lost puppy. 

 

Jace knows that he was jealous of Simon when he and Clary were dating. He knows that they both competed for her affection. Jace  _ knows  _ that he used to feel hostile towards Simon because of Clary. 

 

It's all gone now. Right along with his love for Clary, just… just  _ gone.  _ To be fair, after Simon and Clary broke it off, Jace stopped having those feelings anyway. Actually, he stopped having those feelings the moment he offered his wrist to Simon without any hesitation. But before all of that, he could remember those intense bitter feelings. 

 

Now, he can't. It's like trying to grasp the feeling of being in love with Clary. He knows it was there, knows he felt it, but it's like all the feelings he has for Clary romance wise - gone up in smoke, never to be felt again, nonexistent. 

 

Jace thinks that if their lives were normal, he and Simon could have been friends. 

 

Their lives aren't normal, can never be normal again, so it really shouldn't come as a surprise when Simon becomes Jace's lifeline. His life has went into wild directions so many times at this point, he feels as if he shouldn't even feel stunned when it's yanked in another. This one though… it shocks him. 

 

Things don't become easy - they never will - but it does become  _ easier.  _ Jace starts sleeping for a little longer, starts eating a little more, starts standing at that window and missing the outside world. He looks at his phone and considers turning it on. He almost asks Simon to unlock the door and let whoever knocks almost everyday inside. And when Simon starts talking a little, Jace listens and he replies because he  _ wants  _ to. 

 

They're not healing, not really, but they've found little folds of space that they aren't feeling every second of the wound that their lives have become. 

 

Simon brings up Clary one day, just once, like he can't stop himself from talking about her. 

 

He says, “I miss her.” 

 

Jace stares down at the bag of granola that Simon stole out of Jordan's room. “Me too,” he admits. 

 

“I- I know you love her,” Simon whispers, like he's telling a secret, like it's such a hefty sentence that it doesn't belong at regular volume. 

 

“I did,” Jace agrees, just as quiet. “I remember that, I just don't… feel it.” 

 

Simon's head snaps up. “What?” 

 

“Lilith- she went and had a potion made that would take my love for Clary away. Romantically speaking, I mean.” Jace swallows and sits the bag down on the floor, curling his feet under him. “I love her  _ so much,  _ but it's- it isn't like before. It's like I've lost a sister, not someone I was in love with. It's not fair.” 

 

“Shit,” Simon says weakly, blinking rapidly and swallowing thickly. “That's- it's not right. I- I thought you'd still- or that you'd figure it out.” 

 

“Love should be strong enough to overcome it. Maybe it would have if I was stronger.” 

 

“It's not your fault, Jace. An outside force messed with your feelings against your will. That's not okay. You loved her, we all knew that, and she loved you too, but you two didn't have  _ time.  _ You went on, what, one date? Neither of you had time to build on that.” 

 

“I spent our entire legitimate relationship having horrible dreams.” Jace swallows and closes his eyes, digging his nails into the couch. “I was scared to touch her because when I fell asleep… I was killing her. In the end, I killed her anyway.” 

 

Simon jolts as if he's been stabbed. “What?  _ No.  _ Jace, you didn't kill her. It was me. It was  _ my  _ explosion that did that.  _ You  _ were the one controlled by an outside force.” 

 

“And you weren't?” Jace counters, opening his eyes and gestures to Simon's forehead. “You didn't kill her, Simon. You haven't done anything wrong. Me? I nearly killed my own parabatai. I'm the reason Magnus has no magic. All those mundanes that died? Their blood is on my hands. Everything that happened to Clary was my fault, not yours.” 

 

“Are you always like this?” Simon stares at him in light confusion. “We- we never really got to, well, stop and get to know each other. I never thought you'd be so… self-sacrificial.” 

 

Jace just sighs wearily. “It's not that if it's the truth.” 

 

“Agree to disagree?” Simon offers with a frown. 

 

“I guess,” Jace replies, because there really isn't anything else to say. 

 

They don't speak for three more hours. Jace is only at ease because Simon is next to him. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


The first time it happens, Jace isn't prepared for it. 

 

He doesn't know why, exactly. He knew it was coming, always paranoid about it, checking over his shoulder at every turn for a sign of it. He's been biding his time, just waiting for his surroundings to spiral out of control. 

 

Jace has spent the last two weeks waking up on this couch, eyes flickering open, feeling just as exhausted as before he drifted into sleep. He wakes abruptly now, heart racing in his chest, the flimsy image of Lilith's nails digging into his jaw lingering in his mind. He jolts up, the ghost of her presence slowly fading. Without meaning to, he searches out Simon, needing the reassurance that it wasn't real. 

 

Simon is not on the other end of the couch. When Jace twists around to look, Simon is not puttering around in the kitchen. The shadows in the corner of the room begin to writhe and morph into a shape. Jace thinks he can see the start of a sharp smile forming. He scrambles from the couch, throwing himself down the hall to come to a halt in front of the bathroom. The door is open and it's empty. Simon's bedroom - one he hasn't slept in since Jace has been here - is also bare. Even Jordan's room provides no sight of Simon. 

 

Simon is gone. 

 

Lilith laughs in his head, and as he bursts back into the living room, he can taste blood in his mouth. When he blinks, Clary is standing in front of him, her eyes glassy and dull, throat bleeding. Jace brings his hands up, reaching out for her, but there's a dagger in his hands - he knows instantly. 

 

This is a dream, and this is real, and this is reality. Lilith has her claws in him, laughing softly as he stumbles back towards the couch. Clary dissipates like mist, her blood coating his hands, and Jace curls into himself. The dagger glints in his palm; he tries to drive it into his own chest, but like always, it evaporates before it can touch. 

 

"No, no,  _ no,"  _ Jace whimpers, hitting his knees beside the couch and trying to shove his head between his knees. Voices - indiscernible, yet full of loathing and pleading and pain - fills his head, taking over. 

 

Jace should have known, he should have  _ known.  _ Simon isn't real, this isn't real; all that exists is Lilith's hold on him. He's broken and misused, a toy soldier cast aside for her to piece together as  _ she  _ desires, marching him in whatever direction she wants. He's not free, he'll never be free. 

 

"Serendipity! Jace,  _ serendipity!  _ Hey, hey, it's okay, this is real, I'm real. Serendipity, serendipity-" 

 

For a split second, Jace is the most confused he has ever been, and that's truly saying something, considering the perpetual loop of confusion his life has been since Clary entered it. Simon's voice echoes in his head, breaking through all the rest, that  _ ridiculous  _ word making him pause for a moment. He sucks in a sharp breath and peels his eyes open, not quite understanding the image of Simon leaning over him with a cup of ice. 

 

"I can't breathe, I can't-" 

 

"I know, I know," Simon soothes, carefully reaching out as if to touch him, but holding back. "Breathe with me, in and out. Match my breathing." 

 

Jace feels ridiculous, but his lungs are on fire, so he scrambles to do anything to soothe them. He shakily draws himself up, leaning his back against the couch, his hands pressed together tight against his stomach, like he can hold himself together. He stares at Simon's chest through bleary eyes, watching it rise and fall, matching the easy draw of breath, releasing slowly. 

 

Time doesn't really exist, he can't be sure that Simon does, but it slowly becomes easier to breathe. He still feels locked away in himself, whole body shaking as he rocks back and forth, pushing his back against the couch over and over. He's breathing fine, but he still feels as if he's being crushed from all sides, this faux world slowly crumbling around him. Jace wants to close his eyes, but he's scared that if he does, he'll open them again to find Lilith standing before him with a malicious smile. 

 

"Can I touch you?" 

 

Jace shakes his head back and forth, rocking harder, heart thumping wildly in his chest like a caged bird. He thinks about his falcon, thinks about the way it started out flapping wildly in it's cage, confined and desperate for salvation. Jace had taken that bird and loved it - he'd loved it straight to death. 

 

"No," Jace croaks. "Don't-  _ no."  _

 

Simon nods, holding the cup of ice up to him, an offering. "Okay. Can you chew on some of this for me? Jace, hey, can you do that?" 

 

Jace reaches out with a shaky hand. It doesn't seem like a request that will end with death. He can do that, he  _ can.  _ It's not as easy as he thinks it should be to tip a couple of ice cubes in his mouth, but when he manages to, he blinks rapidly. The ice is cool and vibrant on his tongue, taking him out of his own head for a moment. It crackles loudly under his teeth, the sound of it slowly drawing the world around him into focus. 

 

"Cold," Jace offers, slightly surprised. 

 

"Good," Simon comments softly. So soft. His voice is calm and easy, gentle in a way Jace has never heard before. He sits back on his haunches and stares at Jace. "Can you do me another favor? Tell me what you see, describe it to me." 

 

Jace swallows. "You- I see you. You're wearing that yellow guardians of the galaxy t-shirt." 

 

"Great, and what can you smell?" 

 

"Death. Blood." 

 

"Take a deep breath in, Jace. Tell me what you smell, focus for me," Simon murmurs. 

 

Jace does, slowly breathing in through his nose, the smell of ash and decay nowhere to be found. He breathes out. "I smell myself. My hair smells like your shampoo. You need to take the trash out, I can smell the takeout too." 

 

"Okay," Simon says, nodding and smiling slightly as he shifts around. "The ice, it's cold, right?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

"And what do you feel by touch?" 

 

"Floor beneath me, couch behind me." 

 

"And what are you hearing?" 

 

Jace stares at him, slowly - oh so slowly - feeling more normal. "You. Us. We're talking." 

 

Simon just nods, still kneeling before him with all the patience in the world. Jace doesn't feel so trapped anymore; he mostly just feels like an idiot. He lost his grip that easy, just because Simon was gone, and he is so  _ exhausted  _ that he welcomes the idea of death. Eternal rest doesn't sound so bad, not compared to the grueling process of living. 

 

Calmly and quietly, Simon takes him through the same thing yet again. He has Jace eat more ice, and it's like a splash of cold water to the face, like waking up him up from a horrific daydream. He has Jace tell him what he sees, hears, smells, and feels. It grounds him, settles him back into reality as if he never even existed outside of it in the first place. 

 

When Jace is no longer trembling or rocking, his hands loose and untangled, Simon smiles at him and gently asks, "Better?" 

 

"Yeah," Jace confirms in a rasp. He blinks, ashamed to feel the tears on his cheeks. "Where did you go?" 

 

Simon looks a little guilty. "I couldn't sleep and we didn't have any food left, so I made a quick trip to get some groceries. I- I thought I'd be back before you'd wake up, but there was an accident, and I got a little delayed. I'm sorry." 

 

Jace turns his head to look towards the kitchen. There are bags of groceries on the floor, different types of groceries splayed all over the floor like the bags had been dropped abruptly. He can just imagine it - Simon coming in to see Jace having a meltdown, dropping everything and running over. It makes Jace feel weak, like he's nothing more than a shitstain on the world, a brittle thing that clings because he can't hold himself together. 

 

"Take me next time?" Jace asks quietly, lips tipping down at his own neediness. 

 

"Yeah, of course." Simon bobs his head, not seeming bothered by Jace's dependant nature in the least. He smiles brightly. 

 

Jace clears his throat, eyes dropping down to stare at the cup of ice in his hands. "Why the ice? How did you know what I- what was wrong?" 

 

"I've had my own fair share of panic attacks. Especially after my dad died. I went to therapy, and my therapist taught me ways to ground myself and get me through them. Breathing exercises helps. Chewing on ice does too; it can give you something to focus on instead. And using your senses, listing off what you see, hear, smell, feel, and taste - the ice, in this case - helps bring you back to yourself." 

 

"Oh. I've never- I didn't know." 

 

Simon's face softens. "There are other things too. Wrapping yourself tight in something - a blanket or a jacket. Or letting someone hold you. My therapist used to say that it was okay to get a little lost sometimes, especially when you know how to find your way back." 

 

"Do you still go to therapy?" Jace asks, curious despite himself, a little intrigued. 

 

"No." Simon makes a considering sound, his lips twitching in faint amusement. "I probably should though, now more than ever." 

 

Jace heaves a sigh, tilting his head back and staring up at the off-white ceiling above him. Panic attack. He's never had one of those, or he doesn't  _ think  _ he has. He isn't sure, doesn't know what the spectrum of these things are. It all sounds like weakness to him, but then again, Simon's dealt with them, and Jace knows that Simon is far from weak. Clueless and not equipped, but never weak. 

 

Jace lifts his head, frowning. "I'm sorry." 

 

Simon looks at him in confusion. "For what?" 

 

"For everything." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Have you talked to Izzy or Alec?" 

 

Guilt  _ instantly  _ hits Jace like a battering ram. Simon had spoke casually as he moved over to the couch, passing Jace a plate with a fresh sub on it. It's stacked with meat and vegetables; the sight of it makes Jace feel a little sick. Since going grocery shopping, Simon has been making him eat better, but Jace is still struggling with it. 

 

Simon looks over at him, lips pressed together like he's holding back words he  _ desperately  _ wants to say. Jace bites the inside of his lower lip hard, so hard that blood flows into his mouth. Simon flinches back, drawing his thermos close to his chest and going still as he stops breathing. 

 

Jace swallows his own blood, soothing the small wound until it stops bleeding. "Sorry." 

 

"It's okay," Simon replies, clearing his throat and taking a big gulp of his meal. He seems to settle himself and turns to look at Jace steadily. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. I  _ definitely  _ don't have any room to talk. I've been avoiding everyone, won't open the door for Jordan or Maia, have my phone turned off too. But if-  _ if  _ you do want to talk about it… I'll listen." 

 

Jace grimaces. "I'm not going to  _ break,  _ Simon. Stop treating me like I'm so fucking fragile." 

 

"I'm not," Simon says immediately, narrowing his eyes. "I've just figured you out, mostly. Right  _ now,  _ you're being an asshole because you're feeling things. It's entirely up to you if you wanna talk about those things or not." 

 

"You can't fix me, Simon. I'm not a project that you can focus on so you can forget you're falling apart too," Jace mumbles, staring down at his plate. 

 

"Maybe I just care. Maybe I'm  _ actually  _ just being a good person. Wild concept, I know, but some people actually do that sometimes." 

 

"People are only good for their own personal gain." 

 

"The fact that you genuinely believe that has the opposite effect of what you'd think. The world is shit, yes, but there are bright spots." 

 

"Like what? Name one." 

 

Simon frowns. "I don't know. Shit, Jace, just like…  _ things,  _ okay? Like a little girl who's excited for school, or the barista who always greets customers with a cheery hello, the ducks in central park-" 

 

"I hate ducks." 

 

"-just the kind of things that doesn't seem to matter, but really do. Stop trying to distract me. Are we going to talk about it or not?" 

 

"Fine.  _ Fine.  _ You want to talk about it? What do you want me to say? That I can feel Alec's increasing worry through our bond? That I'm scared they'll get hurt because I'm not on mission with them? That I don't want to turn on my phone because I'm not ready to read Izzy's messages? That I miss them, but can't stand the thought of being anywhere near anyone else in the world but you?" Jace shoves the plate to his lap and spreads his hands, glaring at Simon. "Is that what you want to hear? Happy?" 

 

Simon's lips twist bitterly. "Well, I'm not ecstatic, but let's talk about it." 

 

"What's there to say?" 

 

"Why don't you want to see them?" 

 

Jace grits his teeth, breathing harshly through his nose and averting his eyes. "I don't trust myself around them. I don't trust myself around  _ anyone.  _ I'm not… good." 

 

"Jace, you're not going to hurt them." 

 

"I don't know that for sure." 

 

Simon's hand suddenly settles on his wrist, and when Jace looks over, his eyes are soft. "I'm not telling you what to do, but they worry about you. They're your family, they love you." 

 

"I know." Jace swallows, his shoulders sagging, and he doesn't shake Simon's hand off. "What about you? If I'm being tortured with  _ talking,  _ so should you. Why are  _ you  _ avoiding your girlfriend and roommate? Your turn to talk." 

 

"Actually, me and Maia are… over." Simon's lips tip down as his eyebrows crumble together. His thumb presses into Jace's pulse in a mindless gesture, his eyes going distant. "It got complicated because of Jordan, then the thing with her not being here when everything happened with my mom and Clary, and we just… drifted apart." 

 

Jace blinks. "Okay, wait, go back. Why did Jordan complicate things? What happened with your mom? I'm very confused." 

 

Simon abruptly looks a little haunted. There's an emptiness in his eyes, no spark anywhere, and the flat planes of his face is such a harrowing sight. It's like watching innocence die, like seeing everything light and hopeful swirl down a drain, a gurgle as everything goes bleak and seeps away any joy. The sight of it pins Jace in place, making him freeze. 

 

Simon starts with Jordan, his tone emotionless and cold. He explains in excruciating detail what happened with him, how betrayed he feels, how broken Maia had been by it all. He falters over his mom, then skips back to choke out the backstory on Heidi. Tears pool into his eyes when he mentions how horrible he felt for her, for her fate, for what he'd unwittingly forced onto her. He even goes on about how he doesn't blame Raphael, how he  _ gets it,  _ how it was wrong but forgivable. By the time he gets to his mom, his whole hand is wrapped around Jace's wrist, holding on for dear life. 

 

When Simon explains what happened with his mom, Jace feels a little piece of him shrivel and die inside. Scattered images of taking Heidi and dropping her at Lilith's feet, the catalyst that set her loose, flickers through his mind. Simon's voice cracks as he tells him about making his mom believe he died, about the belly-deep agony of her cries, about breaking down in Izzy's arms. 

 

Simon is crying when he looks up, hand still holding on tight. He forces a smile, and through his own tears, he croaks out, "Rebecca's okay though, so that's all that matters." 

 

Except it's  _ not.  _ Because Simon's whole life got ruined in one fell swoop. As easily as Jace knocked into a seemingly mundane girl at Pandemonium, Simon's life unraveled like a knitted blanket with a stray string.  _ Jace _ plucked that string, pulled and pulled, and it's all his fault. He's the one who let Heidi go, he's the one who ruined him in the worst way. He didn't even have to love him to destroy him. 

 

"I'm sorry," Jace chokes out, snatching his wrist from Simon's grip. "I'm so sorry.  _ Fuck,  _ I'm-" 

 

"Jace,  _ Jace,  _ why are you sorry?" Simon snaps his hand back out, just a blur, locking a firm grip on Jace's wrist yet again. "You didn't do anything." 

 

Jace blinks against the sting in his eyes, staring at him in hopeless despair. "But I  _ did.  _ It was me. I was the one who let Heidi go. I killed those guys and brought her to Lilith. I did that Simon, I ruined your fucking life, and I- I had no idea." 

 

Simon is silent for a beat, his fingers going slack but not jerking back. "If you think that's your fault, you're a lot more fragile than you think. There are  _ a lot  _ of factors at play that comes with my life being ruined. Saying you're the reason is like saying Clary is the reason. I mean, she kissed you at the Seelie court. She broke my heart. She's the reason I went to a bleeder den and fed on Heidi. Is she to blame? No, I made my own choices. Things just…  _ happen  _ sometimes, and that's life, and we have to deal with it. My life just sucks more than others." 

 

Jace feels like he's choking on something. His throat is thick and it hurts to breathe. Simon just looks at him patiently, not an ounce of blame anywhere in his gaze, because he's just that  _ good.  _ To his core, he's just a good person, even without trying. 

 

Jace thinks back to what Simon said about the world and the things that make it brighter; he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that Simon consists of most of whatever makes the world worth it. Jace is well aware that he has none of that, but being near Simon, day in and day out, has exposed him to it. 

 

"You're determination to see the bright side of things is going to get you hurt one day," Jace whispers, staring at Simon, his heart heavy. 

 

Here is this boy, this boy who is made up of hope and loyalty and something so bright that it's almost hard to look at him. This boy, who has been knocked down time and time again, yet digs himself back from his own grave because he can't bare to lose the things he clings to. This boy, who is broken and bruised and  _ wrecked  _ at every turn, torn apart by a world that likes to see a candle blown out. 

 

Simon quirks a small, sad smile. "It already has." 

 

And that,  _ that  _ is what makes Jace want to go back in time. Not his own death, not Clary's, not every horrible thing that's happened to them all. No, it's the haunted look on Simon's face, like he's been tossed into the belly of the beast and he's accepted it. Jace wants to track all the way back and never enter Simon's life, never have to see this tragedy play out like the horror story it is. 

 

But mostly, Jace is  _ confused.  _

 

"If it has, how do you  _ still _ see the best in things?" 

 

"Because otherwise… what's the point?" 

 

And yeah, Jace gets that. 

 

What is the point? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who never has a posting schedule like ever? Yeah, you guessed it: me. Guess who also has no self restraint and can't help but post close together? Ding, ding, ding! Me, again. So, guess who has to deal with regular, yet unscheduled updates? If you guessed me for posterity sake, you're wrong; it's you all, actually (the readers, I mean), you're welcome, I guess? 
> 
> Anywho, as always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so love every single one. 
> 
> Ta! 
> 
> -SOBS


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning for a panic attack, not particularly detailed. Also, for all these warnings, there's at least three scenes where these bois are the softest bois to ever soft?
> 
> Why am I like this???

"I used to have sex with this seelie who was obsessed with mundane customs revolving around death." 

 

Simon looks up from his book, his eyebrows hiking up in surprise. "Okay…" The word draws out slow and unsure. "You're telling me this because… why?" 

 

Jace runs the towel over his damp hair, goosebumps on his skin from the cool air battling his skin's memory of the hot shower. "You're dead." 

 

"Yes," Simon says, "I know." 

 

"I never really understood half the shit she said, but I always thought the bucket list thing was cool. So, what's the first thing you think of when you think of doing something before you died?" 

 

"Uh, shit, I don't know. I- I mean… I always wanted to go to a concert, but I-" 

 

"Okay," Jace cuts him off, hanging the towel around his neck, "let's do that then." 

 

Simon blinks. "Go to a concert?" 

 

"Yeah. I mean, you're dead, but you have a chance to do what you want. So, let's go to a concert." 

 

"Are you serious?" 

 

Jace arches an eyebrow. "Very. You have a van, I have a lot of money, and I'm tired of sitting here. I'm not going back to the Institute yet, you're still avoiding your problems, so let's do it at a concert." 

 

Simon opens his mouth, then closes it. His eyebrows draw together, gaze jerking towards his laptop like he's seriously considering it. Jace crosses his arms and waits, tilting his head to the side. He doesn't say that he wants to escape, that he wants to run from everything, that he's so tired of feeling broken all the time. He doesn't even say that he can't forget the look on Simon's face as he talked about his life being horrible, that he wants to help make his undead life better, that he needs to make up for bringing ruin to Simon over and over. 

 

Jace swallows the words and waits. 

 

"So, what, we're just going to pack some clothes, grab some food, and hit the road?" 

 

"I mean, if the concert is out of state, sure." 

 

Simon narrows his eyes. "And you're totally cool with going on a road trip with me?" 

 

"Is that what you want to do? On your bucket list, I mean?" Jace asks, waving a hand. 

 

"I mean, I've always wanted to do that, but-" 

 

"So, let's do that too. Why not? We can travel and go to concerts all over. You're dead, but in your case, it doesn't mean you can't keep living." 

 

"We just up and leave?" Simon asks cautiously. "What about, well,  _ everything?  _ You have a job, I have a dangerous mark on my forehead. We can't just-" 

 

"So? So  _ what?"  _ Jace speaks harsh and firm, making Simon's mouth snap closed. "There's always responsibility, the world is always ending, but it's like you said, isn't it? What's the point?" 

 

"That's not-"

 

"Either we stay here and avoid everything, or we go out there and avoid everything. It's up to you, I don't care. So, are we going or not?" 

 

Simon pauses, taking in a deep breath. Blowing it out, he reaches out to grab his laptop. "Alright, we'll go. But I am planning the entire trip and you're paying. Where's your debit card?" 

 

Jace huffs a laugh and marches over to the small table with two pull-out drawers where he keeps most of his things. He doesn't have a lot of stuff here, just his wallet, phone, and leather gloves. He's been wearing Simon's clothes, using all his things, and it's not even as terrible as it could be. In the midst of everything else, it doesn't even matter. 

 

Tossing his wallet at Simon, he goes to close the drawer again when the phone catches his eye. It's been turned off nearly three weeks now, but he hovers his hand over it, suddenly unsure. 

 

"Before we go, we should tell them," Jace murmurs, scooping up his phone, his stomach tying himself in knots. He nearly fumbles and drops the phone because of how hard his hands shake. 

 

Simon is suddenly there, tugging the towel from around his neck and tossing it carelessly to the floor. With a gentle look, he plucks the phone from Jace's hands and wraps his steady fingers around Jace's. Patient as always, Simon takes an obvious breath in, silently asking Jace to match him. 

 

Simon walks him through his second panic attack as carefully as the first. It hits Jace out of nowhere; he hadn't seen it coming at all, hadn't been prepared for it. This has nothing to do with dreams of Lilith or losing track of reality, this is just pure panic at taking the step to actually  _ talk  _ to his family. He's avoided them so long now that he isn't sure how to bridge that gap, isn't sure if he can. 

 

He misses them so much. 

 

When Jace is calmer, Simon still holds his hands and murmurs, "You don't have to. If you're not ready, you don't have to. It's okay, Jace, it's okay." 

 

"I want to, I'm just- I'm not sure if- I don't know." 

 

"I'll do it with you." 

 

Jace blinks. "What?" 

 

"Yeah." Simon takes a deep breath, his fake smile more of a grimace. "If- if you call Alec, I'll call Maia. We can do it together." 

 

"Okay," Jace agrees. 

 

Simon nods and drops his hands to pass his phone to him. Jace takes deep, steady breaths as Simon darts away to snatch up his own phone. They stand in front of each other, matching looks of dread, and they turn on their phones together. As soon as they come on, ping after ping fills the room, their phones blowing up with three weeks worth of messages and missed calls. 

 

"Just clear the notifications," Simon tells him, swiping his own away with a frown. "Don't read them, not right now. Just call Alec." 

 

Jace does as he's told, not reading a damn thing, clearing away the notifications as they come in. Heart racing in his chest, he pulls up Alec's contact. Maybe Simon can hear his frantic heartbeat because he reaches out to grab Jace's wrist. Or, maybe Simon uses the touch to ground him as he pulls up Maia's number and hovers his finger over the call button. 

 

They look at each other, then press call at the same time. Jace brings his phone to his ear, slightly turning from Simon in some form of privacy. Simon does the same. They're still linked by a hand wrapped around a wrist, and it's possibly the only thing that keeps Jace breathing. 

 

_ "Jace,"  _ Alec breathes in his ear, relief obvious in his tone as he answers. 

 

Jace suddenly has a lump in his throat. He hasn't realized just how much he missed hearing his parabatai's voice until this moment. He shoots a look at Simon to see him biting his lip as Maia picks up with her own relieved greeting. Jace clears his throat and takes a deep breath. 

 

"Hey, Alec," he says quietly. 

 

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Alec sounds borderline panicked himself. "Jace, you've been away for  _ weeks.  _ How- is everything okay?" 

 

Jace clears his throat again. "No, not really. But it's not… bad. I'm just, I'm dealing with some stuff." 

 

"I know, I- Jace, I get it," Alec tells him, voice going soft through the line. "Whatever you need, it's okay. Just- just don't go silent like that again, that's all I'm asking. A text to let me know you're alive will suffice. Me and Izzy have been going crazy with worry." 

 

"I know, I'm sorry. Thank you for not pushing." 

 

"It took everything in us not to come barging into Simon's apartment. It was getting close." 

 

Jace snorts quietly. "I'm honestly surprised you two held out so long." 

 

"Well, we've been dealing with our own things. Plus, we've been pretty busy with missions. World won't let us catch our breath, as you know." 

 

"I know. Look, I should be there, and I'm sorry I'm not, but I just- I can't right now." 

 

"No, it's- we're fine." Alec sighs, sounding vaguely worried. "We've had Luke, Maia, and Magnus helping us pretty regularly. Everyone's trying to stay busy after- well, after everything. You do what you have to do and come home when you're ready." 

 

Jace closes his eyes, a deep yearning sweeping through him. "I wish I was ready. I want to be okay, but I'm- Alec, I'm not sure about a lot of things right now. I guess I just need time." 

 

Alec hums, a deep warmth passing through the line that makes Jace feel safer than he has in a very long time. "Take the time you need. You don't have to come back, but we'd like to see you. And Simon too, I guess, but that's more Izzy than me." 

 

"Right." Jace huffs a short laugh, glancing over to see Simon smiling and bobbing his head to whatever Maia is saying to him. "Actually, there's a reason I called. Me and Simon are… going away for a little while. Just, uh, taking a trip. But when we get back, we'll all see each other." 

 

There's a pause. "You're going on a trip? With  _ Simon?"  _ Alec sounds very confused. "Where are you heading?  _ Why?  _ I don't get it." 

 

Jace snorts. "Yeah, we're getting away for a little while, I guess. But we'll be back. I'm fine, it's fine. Just… hard to explain." 

 

"I mean, okay? If- if that's what you need to do, then sure," Alec says slowly, and Jace can tell how supportive he's trying to be. "Just keep in touch, okay? And let me know when you get back." 

 

"Will do," Jace assures him, relief replacing all his anxiety from earlier. "And hey?" 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"Tell Izzy for me? I'll text her when- when I can, I guess. Just let her know I love her and I'm sorry." 

 

"I'll tell her. But Jace?" 

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"You have nothing to be sorry for. We love you. Just stay safe, okay?" 

 

"Love you too. And yeah, I will." 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


They head out on a dreary Tuesday morning. They have two duffles between them and a cooler. One duffles holds Simon's clothes that they're just sharing now, the other has the odds and ins they'll needs for hygiene and boredom - toothbrush, books, phone chargers, and all the other things that Simon  _ insists  _ people forget they need on long trips. The cooler is packed full to the brim with bags of blood, only an opaque sheet of wax paper over the top to cover it. 

 

Simon has it all planned out. He has a map with red circles on it for where they're going to be stopping, a route drawn in a thin line that connects those dots. Jace isn't sure why they have a map when Simon plans on using his GPS, but Simon says it's for authenticity, whatever that means. 

 

Simon has the back of the van set up with blankets and pillows, apparently a back-up plan in case they can't get a hotel room. He's brought his guitar with him because he demands they stop at a beach at some point one night, just so he can sit out the back of his van and play - Jace doesn't get why Simon is so intent on doing this, but he just goes with it. 

 

Jace, who is funding this entire trip, refuses to drive at all. Mostly because he doesn't fully know how, but he doesn't tell Simon that. When Simon whines about that fact, Jace reminds him that he's paying for all of this, and that shuts up Simon pretty quickly. Jace figures he'll be winning a lot of arguments with that line, so he doesn't use it very often. It's not his fault that he has a Herondale trust fund from his dead parents; he certainly never asked for it, but he isn't going to let it go to waste. 

 

It takes them four hours to get to the very first concert. Jace hasn't ever been to one, so he has no idea what to expect. Whatever it was, it certainly isn't  _ this.  _

 

"I totally used your money for front row access," Simon tells him with a bright smile, leading him down an aisle with visible excitement. 

 

There are a lot of people in the room, so many that Simon has to yell in his ear just to speak. They have to flash tickets at a big, burly man to get through to the area right next to the stage. Simon seems to hesitate as he enters the crowd, hunching down onto himself like he has no idea what to do now. 

 

There's absolutely no room for privacy. People stand elbow to elbow, right in front of each other, close enough that every shift makes someone bump into someone else. Jace is no stranger to crowds, has stood among many for missions, but Simon seems a little cowed by the amount of people. 

 

"Come on," Jace says loudly, jerking his head at Simon, his eyebrows raised. 

 

Simon's eyes are wide. "Jace, what if someone elbows me in the face by accident? They could get hurt!" 

 

And okay, Jace hadn't exactly considered that. Scanning the small crowd in front of him, he finds a small spot just at the edge of the stage. Narrowing his eyes, Jace forms an idea. 

 

"Come on!" Jace insists more forcefully, reaching back to drag Simon along behind him. 

 

Jace elbows his way towards that spot, shoving his way through people who start to give offended huffs, but stop when they see him. He wants to roll his eyes in amusement, but keeps his expression grim and intimidating. It's almost comical how the crowd parts for him and, by extension, Simon. 

 

With some maneuvering, Jace manages to push Simon in that small space in front of the stage. Without prompting, he crowds close behind Simon and crosses his arms, broadening his stance to take up more space. People shift away, but it doesn't matter if they do or not. Jace is effectively covering Simon from the sides and the back, and with the stage in front of him, no one can actually touch him besides Jace. Simon beams at him. 

 

It works out. Even when the band comes on stage and people start screaming, pushing forward towards the stage like they can climb it - they can't, it's far too high for that. Jace knocks away any stray arms that wave around near them and glares at people if the brush a little too close. 

 

Simon has a blast. He seems to know every song, bobbing his head and singing loudly without shame. Jace doesn't know the songs at all, but the music isn't bad, so he enjoys it too. It's actually pretty fun, considering everything, and Jace feels himself relaxing for the first time since he came back to life after his sorta-but-not-really father stabbed him. 

 

After, Simon is thrumming with energy. He babbles as he drags Jace to get t-shirts, then babbles some more as he forces Jace to get something from concessions and eat. As they amble back to the van, Simon talks and talks and  _ talks.  _

 

Jace mostly tunes him out, humming and nodding in the right places. Simon hasn't talked this much or this fast in a long time, and Jace lets it buzz in the back of his mind in a pleasant hum. It's soothing in a strange way and it helps him feel less like he's destroyed Simon without meaning to. 

 

"Hey," Simon suddenly blurts, tugging him to a halt before they can get into the van. It's dark outside now; they'd spent hours at the concert. "I just wanted to say thanks for doing that back there. Making sure I don't accidentally kill someone, I mean. I just- thanks." 

 

Jace rolls his eyes. "Simon, the mark only deals the damage done to you back to those who attack. At the worst, someone would have gotten shoved back a step or two. It's fine." 

 

"Yeah, but… still." Simon shrugs. "Thanks." 

 

"It really scares you, doesn't it?" Jace asks softly, watching Simon's hands twist together. 

 

"Yeah, it- I hate it," Simon admits. 

 

Jace just sighs. "Let's find a hotel." 

 

They do find one eventually. It's not fancy in the least, but Simon assures him that they can be much better and severely worse. Jace decides to take his word for it, standing back as Simon gets them a room. The receptionist eyes them both, eyes flicking between them when Simon requests a single bed. Jace just meets her eyes steadily and passes his card over when Simon taps him twice on the shoulder and waves his hand pointedly, non-verbally telling Jace exactly what he needs. 

 

Jace is well aware of why they're getting a single bed. It's not like the nightmares have slowed any, and Simon still wakes up with him throughout the night, reaching out to touch him and repeat  _ serendipity _ over and over until Jace can breathe again. There's no point in sleeping apart when they've spent the last three weeks sleeping on the same couch, even on opposite ends. 

 

Getting into the room seems to remind their bodies that they've been standing up for hours at a concert and sitting down in a van for just as many. Abruptly tired, they take turns in the shower, and they still leave the door open so there's nothing keeping Jace from checking to make sure Simon is still there. 

 

That makes Jace realize that, for the past three weeks, the only space Simon has had from Jace is when he went to the store and when Jace uses the bathroom and closes the door for privacy. 

 

Simon hasn't complained once. 

 

Jace has all plans to talk about it, but when he steps out of the bathroom after his shower, Simon is splayed out on the bed with a book in his hands. His hair is wet and leaving a damp spot on the pillow, which makes Jace snort as he pads over and flops face-first into his own pillow. He can feel his own damp hair against his face, cool and smelling like Simon's shampoo, and his eyes flutter closed. 

 

"I thought Shadowhunters didn't have scars outside of some of their runes." 

 

Jace's eyes snap open when Simon traces the scar he's had on his hip for three years, fingers pressing into skin where his shirt rides up. He blows his hair out of his face and lifts up on his elbows to stare down at the scar that Simon is frowning at. 

 

"There was a bad fight with demons about three years ago. I might have ended up through a windshield of a car. The wound there was the worst; they had to dig the glass out. Even using my healing rune couldn't help the scar." 

 

Simon draws his hand back, tutting. "You're a danger magnet," he says, sounding disapproving. 

 

"Says you." Jace snorts and lays back down, sliding his arms under his pillow and turning his head so he can stare up at Simon, his cheek pressed into the damp spot his own hair left. "How many times have you been kidnapped at this point? It's your  _ thing."  _

 

"I thought my thing was being in the friend-zone? What was it you said? The Simon Lewis sweet spot, right?" Simon teases, arching an eyebrow down at him, lips curling up. 

 

Jace blinks slow and sleepy. "You have shit niches. Find a new brand, it might change your life." 

 

"I'll have you know, I have more than that under my belt. I am also a musician." 

 

"A shitty one." 

 

Simon gasps in mock offence, reaching over to smack Jace's shoulder. "You take that back. I am moderately good, and I stand by that." 

 

"You're alright, I guess." Jace quirks a small smile as his eyes drift closed. "Should probably work on everything else though." 

 

"Yeah," Simon says sarcastically, "I'll get right on that. Just as soon as I care." 

 

Jace is half-asleep, warm and comfortable in a way he rarely is these days, so what he mumbles next is not his fault. "You should care, I care." 

 

Jace does not know if Simon replies; he drops off into exhausted sleep easily. Of course, two hours later he wakes up with Alec's name falling from his lips in a croak, shaking as the image of Alec's dead body beneath his hands fades. Simon just reaches over and grips his wrist, repeating the one word that can make reality mean something. 

 

When Jace finally manages to go back to sleep, his head drops onto Simon's shoulder and doesn't move. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so love them! 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chap: talks about suicide, some grieving, some heavy yet lighthearted introspection and discussions. 
> 
> Be safe everyone, I love you ❤

They're leaving their fifth concert a week later when Simon pulls the van over and says, "Now there's something you don't get to see in New York." 

 

Jace is far used to Simon veering off to do shit like this by now. In the past week, Simon has pulled them into doing things that has nothing to do with the plan. They've ate at lavish restaurants, stopped at a farm to milk cows, went shopping, and walked around flea markets - Jace has long stopped complaining at this point. 

 

When Simon wants to do something, he'll pin hopeful eyes on Jace and say it's on his bucket list, and even though Jace knows it isn't, he rolls his eyes and folds like a stack of cards in a tornado. 

 

Jace won't admit it to save his life, but he's actually having fun. Each concert they go to is different. Some large and packed with people, some outside, some smaller, and some just really strange - Simon calls those underground concerts and seems very pleased with them, even if the music isn't the best. 

 

There's something about being away from home that makes things seem infinitely easier. So far away, it feels like it's harder for demons to reach him - literally and figuratively. His nightmares are less frequent at night now, he finds it easier to smirk and tease, and he almost doesn't feel like he's shattering into pieces all the time. There's also an ease in which him and Simon interact, looser and more playful; away from prying eyes, Jace lets himself relax and give into that part of him that just wants to be  _ happy.  _ It's selfish, he knows that, but Simon is doing it too, and it feels too natural to fight it. 

 

Jace is acutely aware how wrong this is. He is wracked with guilt by it. He spends his days flipping wildly between enjoying himself and feeling like complete and utter shit. Clary is gone, he's not doing his duty as Shadowhunter, and he hasn't done a damn thing to warrant being happy. 

 

But Jace refuses to give it up, deciding to face the issues that come with it later. He keeps doing that, but this doesn't feel like running from his problems; this feels like escaping his pain. 

 

So, Jace lets Simon pull him into weird situations. He goes to concerts and lets Simon tell him all about music. He texts Izzy and Alec at least once a day to check in with them, sometimes calling them when Simon's driving them to their next destination - he doesn't tell them what they're doing, just tells them he'll be back soon, even when he has no idea when they'll actually return. He just lets himself get lost in the tide of existing in the here and now, going from moment to moment and trying to let himself be okay - and through it all, Simon is right there. 

 

Jace realizes he wouldn't change a damn thing, and that - more than anything - brings a sense of relief. 

 

When Simon pulls them to a stop in a random field and clambors out of the van with a bright grin, Jace just sighs and follows him. His boots squelch in the damp weeds underfoot; the air smells of rain, a little sweet and heady. Simon doesn't seem to care, just goes to the back of the van and bundles up a blanket, climbing up the van with all the clumsiness he's always had, vampire or not. 

 

"Simon, what are you doing?" Jace grumbles, tilting his head to watch Simon spread the blanket out. 

 

Simon leans over the side to frown at him, pointing towards the back of the van. "Stop being a buzzkill and hand me some of those pillows out the back." 

 

Jace arches an eyebrow and complies, smirking as he tosses the pillows up in quick succession with neat precision. Simon squawks and flails to catch them, huffing when he gets hit in the face with a few. He tosses Jace a scowl, but it lacks heat, and then he starts putting the pillows where he wants them. When he's done, he looks down at Jace expectantly.

 

"What?" Jace asks flatly. 

 

"Well, come on, get up here." 

 

"Absolutely not." 

 

"Please?" 

 

"Why?" 

 

Simon huffs, rolling his eyes. "Stargazing, Jace, why else? Come on, it's on my bucket list." 

 

Jace sighs. "Fine." 

 

With a lot more finesse than Simon had, Jace climbs to the top of the van. He flops down when Simon pats the spot behind him, then lays back when Simon tugs him down. They lie on their backs, shoulder to shoulder, and Jace blinks in surprise. It's pitch black out, but they barely notice, not with Simon's vampire eyesight and Jace's rune activated. 

 

The canopy of stars above them is breathtaking. Peppered through the backdrop of black, lights twinkle and highlight the softer hues of midnight blue. Simon is entirely right - this is not something one gets to see in New York. 

 

"New York never sleeps, but it misses this." 

 

"I've always been in a city, so I've never seen this." 

 

Simon hums. "Pictures don't do it justice. Kind of makes you feel small, doesn't it?" 

 

"In a weird way, yeah," Jace admits quietly. 

 

They're silent for a long time after that. It's peaceful, so much so that Jace doesn't even feel guilty about it. He feels as if they exist in this space, like they've sheltered themselves in this bubble away from the rest of the world. It's like nothing can touch him here, like being on top of Simon's van under the blanket of stars is the safest place to be. 

 

Jace thinks about nothing, his mind empty and calm, like still waters after a horrendous storm. He does feel small, insignificant almost, but that only succeeds in feeling like a reassurance. He's just a blip in the universe, not a force that can rip the world apart; his impact seems meaningless in this moment, and that's the most freeing thing he has ever experienced in his life. 

 

Jace isn't sure how long they sit up there in silence, just looking at the stars, but Simon abruptly speaks. 

 

"I used to bring Clary up here," he says, gesturing to the top of his van, the words slipping from his lips like he can't contain them. 

 

"I know," Jace replies, turning his head to look at Simon with serene patience. 

 

Simon can't seem to stop the words. "I miss her so much. Sometimes, it's like I can't even breathe with how much I miss her. And- and I know you might think it's because I was in love with her, but it's because she was my best friend. I feel like I've lost half of myself, and I  _ have.  _ She took all my secrets that she kept, all the tears I shed only to her, all the laughs and smiles and  _ love  _ I had for her. It's all just… gone, just like that, just like her." 

 

"I miss her too," Jace whispers. "Not like I should, but I do. She knew me,  _ really  _ knew me. She saw the parts of myself I was most ashamed of and loved them anyway, then helped me be better. I don't know if I'll have that again." 

 

"You do," Simon says firmly, head snapping over to stare at him, eyes blazing fiercely. "Jace, you do. You have that with me." 

 

"You shouldn't." Jace heaves a weary sigh, suddenly bone-deep tired. "I don't know why you're doing this, why you've  _ been  _ doing this. Babysitting me, essentially. Because I'm a fucked up mess. You shouldn't, but you do." 

 

Simon reaches over and grabs his wrist, the contact like motion memory now. "I like it. Taking care of you, I mean. It's as easy as breathing, maybe the least complicated thing in my life, and I need it as much as you need me to do it. I didn't expect to; I thought I'd hate it. But it's- it makes me feel like I'm finally making the right choice, like I'm not screwing up all the time." 

 

"I hate it, you know. It drives me crazy that I can't keep myself together. I hate that you can, that you feel like you have to." 

 

"I don't. I mean, I know I don't  _ have  _ to. I do it because I want to. It's nice to be someone's glue when you feel like you're in pieces already." 

 

Jace stares at Simon in surprise, frowning at his gentle smile. "What if I'm always like this? What if I never know how to be whole without you in my line of sight? That's not- it isn't okay." 

 

"It's okay to need help sometimes." Simon squeezes his wrist, thumb stroking the inside of it. "You don't know it, but you're healing. We both are. Slowly but surely. My old therapist used to say that emotional stability is not a room that crumbles in on itself; it's like Rome - it can burn in a night, but rebuilding can take time and a lot of help." 

 

Jace chuckles quietly, something fond curling warm in his chest. "Just who is this guy anyway? Maybe I need to go talk to him if he's giving advice like that." 

 

Simon blinks at him, then bites his lip. His face spasms for a moment, then smooths out as he takes a deep breath. "You can, if you really want. I still have his contact information. It can- Jace, it can really be a big help. I've been considering it myself." 

 

"I don't know," Jace says slowly. "It's… not that simple. We don't- Shadowhunters don't go to therapy; we're either mentally stable or we're not fit for duty, and I'm not risking that." 

 

"You were, before Lilith stopped you." 

 

"That was… different." 

 

"Was it?" Simon challenges lightly. 

 

Jace clears his throat. "No, but I can't do that again. Going while being possessed is one thing - I  _ knew  _ something was seriously off. But this? This is just me, and I'm fucked up, just like my mom. If I go in for treatment, I'll lose everything." 

 

Simon's fingers jerk, moving from his wrist and landing in his palm. "Jace, you can't just ignore your mental health problems because Shadowhunters have no concept outside of perfection. I'm not saying that you should go to the Silent Brothers, I'm just suggesting you try it the mundane way and see if that helps you out at all." 

 

"I don't know," Jace repeats gruffly. 

 

"It's okay." Simon's fingers start tapping the inside of his palm in a rhythm that Jace can't follow. He doesn't seem to realize he's doing it. "Can I ask you something?" 

 

"You can ask." 

 

"If your heart was malfunctioning, what would you do? Go to a doctor, right? Wait, do you guys even have doctors?" 

 

"We have healers that help with special cases, but Shadowhunters rarely get sick." 

 

"What about cancer or disease from old age?" 

 

"Most Shadowhunters die young. In battle, or on purpose. So no, we don't really have those issues." 

 

"Wait, what do you mean  _ on purpose?"  _

 

Jace feels his eyebrows wrinkle together as Simon stares at him with dawning horror. "Just- I mean, it's obvious, even if no one talks about it. People toss themselves in front of attacks without defense, or throw themselves into battles they can't win, or they simply wait for a demon to take them down." 

 

"Suicide," Simon breathes, his fingers going still and digging into his palm. "It's suicide and- and no one even-  _ of course not.  _ That's so… fucked." 

 

"I've tried to before, back when Lilith had me in my own head." Jace licks his lips, heart picking up speed in his chest. No one outside of Alec and Izzy knows this, and he has no idea why he's telling Simon about it. "I wanted to die. I tried to ask Alec or Izzy to do it, begged them actually, but they wouldn't. I still think that it would have been better if-" 

 

"No," Simon cuts him off firmly, fingers dipping in the crevices of Jace's, linking together and holding on tight. "They were right not to. It wouldn't be better. It wouldn't." 

 

Jace is silent for a moment. "I've died. I sometimes think it was wrong for Clary to bring me back. And I kept trying to right that wrong when Lilith had me locked away, but it never worked." 

 

"I've considered it before too, you know. Just goading the wrong vampire with a stake, or climbing to the top of the statue of liberty and stepping off, or - back before I had your blood - just walking outside as the run rose." Simon's voice is thick with emotion, and without a second thought, Jace squeezes his hand. "Because I get it. That feeling of knowing you're not supposed to be alive, that hollow spot in your chest where death takes up space. But it's- Jace, it's not the way to go. This life, whatever part of it that we get to lead… it's meant to be lived, and that comes with the good and bad. We have this imprint on the world, even just a small one, and it's not ours to remove." 

 

"I know." Jace releases a shaky breath. "It's not fair." 

 

"No," Simon agrees, "it's not." 

 

"I'm glad you're alive, that you never did it," Jace tells him softly, turning his head to stare back up at the stars, looking away as emotions clog his throat. His heart feels mashed up the wrong way in his chest, twisted and aching. "The world is better off with you in it. My world is, anyway." 

 

"And that proves my point. Life is cruel, it  _ does  _ give us more than we can handle, but we handle it anyway, just because we matter to other people. You matter to me, Jace, so that means you can't leave. Your life is not your own, you affect others, so it's not all yours to bring to an end." 

 

"But if it was-  _ if it was…"  _

 

Simon holds his hand a little tighter, his words strong and steady. "Guess you'll never know." 

 

Jace closes his eyes, shuttering out the sight of stars and possibility.  _ Guess you'll never know.  _ The words wash over him, a balm to a wound, breezing through his mind like a leaf in the wind. Just that, the promise that Jace will always mean something to Simon, that his life isn't some cosmic joke or hopeless tragedy, that somehow… Simon has picked it up and refuses to let it go;  _ that  _ makes Jace think that any reason to keep breathing is worth every scrap of pain he's ever felt. 

 

"Thank you." 

 

"You'll live for yourself again one day, you know. You probably don't think you will, but you'll get better. You'll feel like this a lot, even after you get on better footing, but it will get easier." 

 

"Has it for you?" 

 

"Sometimes. There are moments where I'm at a new low, the lowest I can ever get, and I have to stop and remind myself that if I can always get lower, then I can always get higher too." 

 

Jace turns to stare at him. The words feel like a punch to his chest. He realizes it then, that Simon is just as messed up as him, but he's worlds away from being ruined. He's not destroyed at all, he's building himself back up. Jace wants to do that, wants to be capable of that, and he thinks that the desire to do so is entirely Simon's fault.

 

And for that, he's grateful. 

 

"I think I'll meet that therapist when we get back, if you are okay with taking me," Jace says quietly. 

 

Simon's smile is blinding. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"I want to try something." 

 

Simon yawns and nods, scooting down against the pillows of yet another hotel bed. Jace slowly stands up and pads towards the door. Simon watches with sleepy eyes, just the faintest spark of curiosity in his gaze. However, when Jace opens the door and steps out into the hall, Simon sits up with a frown. 

 

"Jace, what are you-" 

 

Jace shuts the door, cutting off the rest of Simon's words and effectively blocking Simon from his sight. Jace shuts his eyes and leans his forehead against the door, breathing in slow and letting it out. He listens to the sounds around him, focuses on the crisp smell of paint and wood of the door, presses his palms into the softness of Simon's shirt that he's wearing. 

 

Slowly, he lifts his head and opens his eyes, looking down both ends of the lit hallway. There's no Lilith, no shadows creeping towards him, no blood coating his hands. He knows Simon is on the other side of the door, knows that this is real and isn't going to fade away. Lilith is  _ gone,  _ it's over. 

 

Jace stands there for a long time, just staring around the hallway, completely and utterly alone. Except, of course, he's  _ not.  _ Alec is awake and irritated; about what, Jace has no idea, but he can feel it through their bond. Izzy is one phone call away; she'd talk to him for hours if he wanted. Hell, even Magnus and Maia and Luke, they'd all be here in a split second if he asked. And Simon… he's right behind a slab of thick wood that Jace could splinter with a punch, waiting with a smile and hope in his eyes. 

 

_ It's okay,  _ he thinks,  _ it's going to be okay.  _

 

Jace releases a shaky breath and knocks on the door, not having the keycard to get back in. The door swings open immediately, like Simon's been waiting on the other side. Simon looks faintly concerned, but when he sees Jace, his whole face lights up. 

 

"Hey," Jace says dumbly, a liberating feeling sweeping through his whole body. 

 

Simon grins at him. "Hey yourself. You okay?" 

 

"Great," Jace murmurs, and it's not a lie. 

 

"Good," Simon tells him, and it's clear that he means it. His eyes are soft as he says, "Now, come back to bed so we can attempt to get some sleep before going home tomorrow." 

 

Jace quirks a small smile. "Okay." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I really adore them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No specific warnings for this one, my friends, simply some angst peppered into an overall wholesome chapters. 
> 
> Reunions are happening!

Simon shoots to his feet when Jace steps back into the waiting room of the office. He's twisting his fingers together, biting his lower lip, and the sight of his concern makes Jace feel stupidly pleased. 

 

"How'd it go?" Simon asks as Jace approaches him. 

 

Jace shrugs one shoulder. "It was… okay. I mean, we mostly got to know each other. He's a cool guy." 

 

"Yeah, he's great. Did you two talk about anything?" 

 

"A little. He does give sage advice, doesn't he?" 

 

Simon huffs a little laugh, face smoothing out with relief. "Yeah, he really does. You ready to go?" 

 

"Mhm." Jace follows Simon out the office, sliding in the van once they're outside it. Simon turns to him before he starts it up. "What?" 

 

"Do you- I just- is there anything you want to talk about? I mean… with me?" 

 

"Simon, I'm  _ fine.  _ It was just one session. Let me get two more in before you worry I'll have a meltdown." 

 

Simon's lips twitch. "So, you'll go back?" 

 

"The second session is scheduled a week from now. He says he wants to make it a weekly thing," Jace explains, amused as Simon beams at him. 

 

"That's great!" Simon chirps, hand snapping out to grab Jace's, their fingers threading together. 

 

Because that's a thing they do now, apparently. 

 

Jace doesn't really know what to think about this new hand-holding thing. Simon doesn't seem to find anything odd about it, nor does he even seem to notice that he's doing it. It's not like it's a grievance; it's actually kind of… nice. It makes Jace feel like he's tethered, like he can't float away. Maybe that's why Simon does it, somehow always doing what Jace needs without even trying. 

 

Either way, Jace isn't going to face it. He's gotten really good at this  _ avoiding everything  _ thing, even to a worrying degree. But he's not going to start working on it by approaching whatever in the hell is happening that leads to them holding hands. 

 

He's not a  _ complete _ idiot. 

 

"I'm thinking of stopping by the institute today, if you're not busy or anything." Jace snorts when Simon throws him a flat look. "I think it would be nice to surprise Izzy and Alec. You know, with the gift that is my presence." 

 

Simon rolls his eyes and starts the van with his left hand, the motion looking awkward, but he doesn't drop Jace's hand. "Alright, but I'm dragging you to Jade Wolf first to eat; you haven't eaten anything all day and I miss Maia. So, that first. Deal?" 

 

"Deal," Jace says. 

 

Simon hums in approval and reaches out to cut the radio on before pulling them out into traffic. There's some acoustic type of song playing that Simon croons along to, his fingers dancing over the steering wheel as he drives along. Jace stares at him, feeling lethargic with warmth, like syrup exists in his veins instead of blood, thick and sweet. 

 

Jace just leans his head back against the headrest and stares at Simon's side profile. He's actually very handsome, now that Jace thinks about it. Subtle, but potent. There's a difference in just being cute - which Simon undeniably is - and being  _ attractive.  _

 

Now that Jace is looking, Simon is very attractive. 

 

"You alright?" Simon asks, tossing him a quick glance, eyebrows drawing together. "Your heartbeat just picked up outta nowhere." 

 

Jace hums. "Just noticing that you're actually easy on the eyes. Took me by surprise." 

 

Simon narrows his eyes, flicking his gaze between him and the road. "I can't tell if you're joking or not." 

 

"I'm not," Jace says brazenly. 

 

"I mean, you  _ did  _ call me pretty." 

 

"You are. It's stupid. But I mean that I just noticed that you're attractive. To me, I mean." 

 

"Are you hitting on me right now?" Simon has to slam on breaks when someone cuts him off and he tosses his left hand up, picture of complete anger, a true New Yorker at heart. He huffs and focuses back on Jace for a moment. "Is that what's happening?" 

 

"Nah," Jace says, because it's not. "Just stopped to appreciate for the first time. Not so bad, Simon, good for you. I mean, your personality ruins it completely, but if you could shut up-" 

 

"Yes, I've heard this once already, thank you," Simon cuts him off, rolling his eyes. 

 

Jace smirks. "Just trying to help." 

 

Simon sighs mournfully. "Dunno why. It isn't like I'll be getting with anyone anytime soon." 

 

"But we're going to see Maia." 

 

"Oh, we're definitely not going to happen. She has a thing with Bat - he's another werewolf. And besides, I think we're better off as friends. She does too." 

 

"That happens to you a lot," Jace notes, tilting his head to the side with a frown. "The friend thing." 

 

Simon twitches his nose, pushing his lips from side to side. "Yeah. I guess people just… want other things, or people, more than me." 

 

"I get it," Jace tells him, lifting his head and staring down at their linked hands. "Everyone always gets a piece of me and tells me it means nothing, so I- I get it. I never slept with Clary, did you know? I always thought, somewhere in the back of my head, that it would end there. Because it always ends there." 

 

"That's… shitty," Simon says slowly, lips tipping down. He shoots him a quick, serious look. "You're not a piece of meat, Jace. You shouldn't let people just take a bite and discard you." 

 

"And you shouldn't let people try you on, then put you in the back of their closet. If you're not a first choice, then remove the option," Jace retorts, arching an eyebrow pointedly. 

 

Simon grimaces. "Easier said than done." 

 

"You like to feel wanted, even if it's not how you deserve." 

 

"Well, you like to want things, even if you know you'll never get them." 

 

Jace huffs a short laugh. "What a pair we make. Same soil, different pot." 

 

"Wouldn't it be the same pot, different soil?" Simon asks, pursing his lips. "I mean, we've both been with two of the same girls, so." 

 

"It works both ways." 

 

"If you say so." 

 

They dip into comfortable silence then, and Simon goes back to casually singing along with the radio. Jace turns his head to stare out the window, abruptly feeling somber. This happens sometimes; he'll just get a deep sense of pure  _ sadness  _ out of nowhere. He hates it, but knowing it won't carry on endlessly, that there will be breaks of contentment in between, it makes all the difference in the world. 

 

They eventually reach their destination, pulling the van up next to the abandoned boathouse. Simon stares at it for a moment, his eyes foggy like he's lost in some memory, and Jace squeezes his hand without thinking. Simon blinks and shoots him a quick smile, pulling the keys out of the ignition and slowly easing his fingers from Jace's. 

 

They've barely made it two steps before Maia and Luke come barreling out of Jade Wolf, both wearing bright smiles and eyes sparking with relief. Simon beams as Maia runs up to him and hugs him, slamming into him with momentum. Jace takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as Luke walks towards him. 

 

"Hey, it's good to see you," Luke greets, sounding sincere, and he makes it seem like the easiest thing in the world to reach out and pull Jace into a hug. 

 

Jace swallows, sorrow and guilt rising like bile in the back of his throat. He holds onto Luke for a moment too long, but Luke is a good man because he doesn't mention it. When he pulls away, Jace takes a moment to look at him. There's a hunch in his shoulders that there never used to be, he looks incredibly tired, but his smile is genuine. 

 

"It's good to see you too," Jace replies honestly. 

 

Then, they seem to swap and he abruptly has an armful of Maia. She smells nice and runs a little hot, like all werewolves do, and when she pulls away, she smiles at him kindly. Her eyes sweep his face, seeming to search for something; whatever she finds makes her the skin around her eyes pinch in pity. 

 

"You look like shit," she says. 

 

Jace rolls his eyes. "Thanks." 

 

"I'm mostly kidding," Maia teases, backing away to raise her eyebrows. "So, what brings you to us? We didn't know you were heading over." 

 

"Jace needs to eat, and we wanted to see you two, so we figured we'd stop by," Simon explains, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, smiling brightly at Jace. 

 

Luke's eyebrows shoot up. His eyes sweep between them slowly. "Okay. Let's take this inside." 

 

Jace follows them in and slides into the booth Maia and Luke do. Simon heads to counter to put the order in, already knowing what Jace likes to eat, and he nods at some of the werewolves as he goes. Jace slides father into the booth when Simon comes back to sit down. 

 

It's nice, far nicer than Jace expects it to be. There's an air of careful tiptoeing, no one wanting to say something to shatter the easy atmosphere around them. But outside of that, it's light and casual; Simon laughs easily, his eyes wrinkling as he leans forward on his elbows and gestures wildly. Maia's hair is different, a little longer and curling around her broad smile. Even Luke's shoulders seem to ease a bit, getting a little caught up in the catching up. 

 

When Jace's food is ready, Simon darts away to go get it, coming back and pushing it towards Jace with a pointed look. "Eat," he says firmly. 

 

Jace rolls his eyes and takes a bite. 

 

"So, you two seem… closer," Luke comments, leaning back in the booth and cocking his head. "We were all surprised to hear you two going off together." 

 

Maia snorts. "Where'd you two go anyway? I could barely believe that  _ you two  _ just up and left." 

 

Jace swallows his bite and waves his fork around, arching an eyebrow at Simon. They stare at each other for a moment, Simon looking amused, and Jace waiting for him to speak. Jace is well aware how strange it is that they're just…  _ friends  _ now, but he has no idea how to even start to explain it. He leaves that hardship to Simon. 

 

"Yeah, we're buddies," Simon says simply, looking fond and soft. "We went on a road trip to get away for a little while, no big deal." 

 

And that about sums it up. Except, not at all, but Jace kind of likes that. He likes that the importance of the trip is a like a secret shared between them, sheltered away in the quiet connection they have now. He looks away from Simon with a small smile, ducking his head as he continues to eat; the sweet and sour chicken is actually pretty good. 

 

"Oh?" Maia asks curiously. "What did you guys do?" 

 

"I milked a cow," Jace tells her, nodding when her eyebrows shoot up. "I know. It was an experience." 

 

"We also went horseback riding, went to a rave, ate at one of those  _ super  _ fine dining restaurants. I mean, I couldn't eat, but the experience was awesome! We did a lot of driving though." Simon rolls his eyes and shoots Jace a look. "Or,  _ I  _ did a lot of driving." 

 

Luke hums quietly, lips twitching up. "Sounds like you two had fun. We were… worried." 

 

"Yeah, we- it was… good," Simon admits quietly, eyes dropping to the tabletop. "We, uh, needed it. Everything was just-  _ is  _ just hard right now." 

 

Maia reaches out and lays her hand over his, eyes soft and gentle. Luke looks a little crushed, but it's like that emotion has lived within the lines of his face this whole time, only drawn out when he can't keep it away. Without thinking about it, Jace drops his right hand underneath the table and presses his palm to Simon's knee. Simon pulls the hand under Maia's and tucks it underneath to lay over his, threading his fingers through the back of Jace's. 

 

It's a somber moment, then Maia says, "Well, I've certainly enjoyed not having to deal with Jace's smartass mouth." 

 

The moment breaks, even Luke smiles. Simon continues to hold his hand from the back, hidden away under the table, and Jace eats quietly with his other, relaxing into the quiet laughter. It's almost possible the ignore the muted pain that joins them at the table, like the ghost of Clary's place in their lives has turned bleak and angry. 

 

Jace smiles, but it does not feel real. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


"Hey, you okay?" 

 

Jace looks over at Simon, blinking in surprise. The institute looms beside them, inviting and terrifying in equal measure. Alec is in there, so is Izzy. He wants to see them, wants to touch them and make sure they're alive and real. He wants to tell Simon to drive away, point them in the opposite direction and never look back. He wants to be okay again, if he ever was that at all. 

 

"No, not really." 

 

Simon frowns slightly. "We don't have to do this today. They'd understand. You've already seen Luke and Maia. We could invite them to ours and see them there instead of being here." 

 

"I have to go back sometime," Jace mutters, clenching his jaw as he looks back out towards the institute. "I miss them." 

 

"Well, hey, just remember that we'll go back home when the visit is over. You can be here, but you're not required to  _ stay.  _ Not yet. I mean, not ever if you don't want to." Simon offers him a small smile, fingers twitching like he wants to reach out and touch him. "It's just a visit, Jace." 

 

"Right." Jace takes a deep breath, setting his shoulders. Before he opens the door, he pauses and turns to look at Simon. "Do I have to start paying rent now?" 

 

Simon blinks. "Uh… no? I mean, if you want. But Jordan pays for it in some kind of attempt to try and make up for betraying my friendship, I guess." 

 

"I was just asking because you called it  _ ours.  _ And you said it's my home. I was under the impression that people have to pitch in for those kind of things." 

 

"You know what I meant." 

 

"Yeah," Jace says softly, "I did." 

 

Simon looks a little lost for a moment, his mouth just dangling open, and Jace decides to take pity on him. Huffing a short laugh, already feeling better because of the flummoxed look on Simon's face, Jace climbs out of the van and walks around to the front to wait for Simon to fall into step beside him. 

 

As Jace walks towards the front door, he thinks about all the problems he's caused. Shadowhunters rarely, if ever, get vacation time - in cases of weddings, childbirth, or mourning… but Jace doesn't think his situation matches up to any of those. He wonders what Alec told the Clave. He wonders how many close calls his own people have ran into just because he wasn't there to watch their backs. He wonders if being selfish is what they wrote down on the report to explain his absence. 

 

By the time they reach the door, Jace is well and truly worked up all over again. As if sensing that, Simon reaches out and snags his wrist, drawing him to a halt before he can open the door. 

 

Jace breathes for a little while, feeling like an idiot for doing so, but he's calmer when he gently tugs his wrist from Simon's hand and pushes his way inside. Simon follows without comment. 

 

It's later in the evening, so the hustle and bustle of the place is at a low buzz. As they enter, a few people look over and do a double take, their surprise palpable and obvious on their faces. Jace does his best to ignore them and heads straight for Alec's office, keeping his eyes averted from any searching gazes. Simon just smiles at people and matches him stride for stride, a steady presence at his side. 

 

Jace pauses at Alec's office door, lips curling up in an unconscious gesture - he can hear Izzy and Magnus talking, can feel Alec's laugh like a fizzle through his veins. He almost can't believe that he hasn't come sooner; his whole body lights up at the muffled sounds of his family. 

 

Shooting Simon a quick look, Jace cracks open the door and knocks on wall beside it, smiling as all their heads swing over. "Hey, you guys too busy for me and Simon?" he asks casually. 

 

For a moment, no one says anything, but the pause isn't long enough to make Jace worried. Izzy lets out a high pitched squeal and tosses the papers in her hands to the floor, barreling over to him with a bright grin. As she yanks him in the room and right into her arms, Magnus lets out a peal of laughter, a gentle and pleased sound. Alec pushes away from behind his desk and waits all of two seconds before peeling Izzy away and going in for his hug too. 

 

"Well, here's to hoping my greeting is the same," Simon jokes, then promptly lets out an  _ oomph  _ as Izzy snatches him inside and into her arms too. 

 

It's a moment that Jace thinks he could cherish forever; one tender and calm, sweeping in and reminding him what simplicity is for him. This is very simple, standing here with his arms around Alec, smiling crookedly when they break apart and Magnus drifts over with a kind smile of his own. Jace isn't sure what's allowed, but Alec is awkwardly clapping Simon on the shoulder, so he figures he can make the effort too. Without much warning, he swoops in and hugs Magnus - it's quick and short, there-and-gone, and no one seems to notice it; Magnus is a literal saint because he doesn't act as if the new contact is odd at all. 

 

"You look good," Izzy comments, her eyes shining with unbridled joy. "I'm guessing that trip away did work out as you hoped!" 

 

Jace is very proud of this and extremely baffled by the experience, so it's worth telling anyone he crosses paths with. "I milked a cow," he blurts out, snorting when Simon groans. 

 

"Dude, can you let that  _ go?"  _ Simon rolls his eyes and dodges the elbow Jace sends his way. He leans forward and addresses everyone else. "Seriously, he acts like he's done something special." 

 

Jace shoots him a flat look. "I'm a Shadowhunter; I live in  _ New York.  _ Milking a cow  _ is  _ special." 

 

"You have to tell me  _ everything,"  _ Izzy demands, looking as if she genuinely means that. 

 

So, Jace does. Or, he tells her the things that won't break the pleasant air around this moment. They all arrange themselves in chairs, or in Alec's case, leaning against his desk. Jace talks, words falling out with ease, and Simon adds additional commentary that often leads to them having a miniature bickering session, but no one seems to mind. 

 

It's relaxing, it's  _ fun.  _ Magnus seems delighted by some of the things they got to experience, offering little tidbits of information and historical facts that are wild enough to seem impossible, yet Jace finds himself believing anyway. Alec seems mostly in disbelief about some things -  _ you seriously touched a sting ray in an aquarium?  _ \- but he's also grinning and laughing in delight at the stories. Izzy soaks up every word, shooting off question after question, her smile never waning once. 

 

It makes Jace regret not coming back sooner, makes him ache when he recalls the distance  _ he  _ put between himself and his family. It's stupidly perfect, even when Jace catches sight of the picture of Clary on Alec's desk, even when he stumbles over the story of him and Simon stargazing, even when he thinks about how all this catching up they have to do is entirely his fault. 

 

It makes Jace think about healing, about how skin can stitch back together but still bare a scar. He guesses he's a little like that, maybe the epitome of that; where he was a gaping wound before, he likes to believe this is him slowly pulling the shredded pieces of himself back together. 

 

They talk well on into the night. Alec eventually gives up leaning and hauls himself up on his desk at some point, legs swinging as he throws words and looks over his shoulder to Magnus, who sits in his chair as if it is just as much his as Alec's. The night wears on and Izzy curls up into her chair, kicking her heels off and flinging her hair over the back of it like some kind of belligerent curtain. They diverge from just talking about Jace and Simon's road trip, getting drawn into what the others have been doing all this time too. 

 

Before Jace knows it, he's yawning around sentences and drooped down in his chair - peak relaxation. He doesn't know why he's so tired, except he does. Today has been a big day for him, mentally at least; he'd went to therapy, visited with Luke and Maia, then turned right around and visited here too. He's still having nightmares, still getting a depressing amount of sleep, so he's tired; sue him. 

 

But he doesn't want it to end, and that realization is like the sun coming alive in his chest. He thinks, vaguely and full of hope, that he's going to be okay. 

 

"Jace," Simon says at some point, looking over at him with his eyebrows raised. 

 

Sinking further down in his chair, Jace lets out a quiet groan. "Do I  _ have  _ to?" 

 

"What?" Alec asks, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, eyes flicking between them. 

 

"Yes, you do," Simon tells him, hauling himself up from his own chair. "We need to restock the cabinets and I'm not having you complain about lack of sleep through the entire grocery store." 

 

"Just leave me here to die," Jace replies casually, letting his head tip back against the chair. It is, in his humble opinion, a very funny joke - tasteless, but very good. Simon, however, does not seem to agree and shows this by thumping him on the forehead. Jace glares at him. "I hate you." 

 

Simon rolls his eyes, jerking his thumb pointedly, wordlessly telling Jace to get up. "No, you don't. Come on, I'm serious about this. If we don't make it back before two am, I'm not letting you buy that cereal you're obsessed with." 

 

"They're tiny  _ cookies,"  _ Jace snaps, jerking to his feet with a huff. He looks at Alec with a frown. "They're literally cookies, man. It's so fucking  _ simple;  _ cookies and milk. But it's very good." 

 

"I've had them," Magnus says, lips twitching in amusement. "They're fantastic." 

 

Jace shoots Simon a triumphant look. "See?" 

 

"Oh, shut up." Simon rolls his eyes and turns to Alec, smiling faintly. "You busy tomorrow?" 

 

"I'm always busy," Alec replies immediately. 

 

Simon purses his lips. "Too busy to come over for dinner at- at mine?" 

 

"We'll clear our schedule," Magnus answers for him, beaming when Alec sends him a soft look. 

 

"Izzy?" Simon prompts. 

 

"Of course," Izzy replies with a grin. "Should I bring something to eat?" 

 

"No!" Jace blurts in perfect unison with an equally alarmed Alec. 

 

Izzy huffs.

 

"I'll text you the details," Simon says easily, sharing a broad grin with Izzy. Then, abruptly, he looks very serious. "If I don't, just… don't come. Okay?" 

 

There's a beat of silence, something settling into the room that hasn't been there the whole visit. Jace knows exactly why Simon sets those terms, knows that they have everything to do with him and nothing to do with Simon. He doesn't know if the others know it, but they all share a look that makes him think they have an idea. 

 

Alec simply says, "Okay." 

 

After that, they say their goodbyes. Jace pretends not to notice the tears in Izzy's eyes when she hugs him, her smile soft with something sad. Her hug lasts a long time while Simon murmurs to Magnus about what exactly to cook tomorrow. When she releases him, Alec steps up to take her place, and his hug lasts nearly as long. It's nice though, and Jace leans his whole body into it, a frayed piece of his soul smoothing over in a way that only a parabatai can make happen. Jace doesn't hug Magnus again, just smiles at him, but Magnus doesn't seem to mind either way. 

 

Simon ushers him outside, and the walk back through the institute isn't as hard as it was before. Jace actually feels looser, a knot unraveling in his chest and making it easier to breathe. When they climb back into the van, Simon hesitates before cranking it up, clearing his throat. 

 

"It's okay if you can't do it tomorrow, you know. Don't feel like you have to," Simon mumbles, turning his head to stare at him. "But if you're up for it, the option is open." 

 

Jace smirks at him. "I think I'll manage fine." 

 

Simon beams at him. "Good." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I seriously appreciate every single one. 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, so we've got a long one, everyone. Hope you don't mind ;) 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: cathartic mourning/grieving 
> 
> Note: this chapter is simply heavy for the major focus on the grieving process, and to those of you who have lost someone--whether recently or long ago--I hope, more than anything, that this helps, even just a bit.

On the two month anniversary of Clary's death, Jace books an unscheduled visit with his therapist. He doesn't tell Simon about it, does it himself. 

 

"I need to go out for a couple of hours," Jace announces without preamble, getting up from the couch and searching out his leather jacket that he'd bought on the road trip. 

 

Simon cuts off the TV, which tells Jace that this is serious because he'd just turned off  _ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles  _ without batting an eye. Jace avoids his gaze for as long as possible, shrugging into his jacket and looking everywhere else. 

 

"Okay," Simon says carefully, feet uncurling from under him as he sits up. "Can I- will you tell me where you're going?" 

 

"No," Jace replies simply. 

 

Simon swallows. "Are you… okay?" 

 

"I'm not going to go throw myself off the statue of liberty, so you can relax." 

 

"That doesn't actually help me relax." 

 

"I just… I have something I need to do," Jace tells him, swallowing thickly. "I can go out on my own now, at least for a little while. I'll call you, I promise." 

 

"Is this a mission thing? Are you back to-" 

 

"No, Simon, it's- it's complicated." 

 

Simon takes a deep breath. "Okay, so-  _ so,  _ you know how you used to be… tense if you didn't see me?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

"Well, I'm… tense if I'm not sure that you're okay. Or, as okay as we can get." 

 

"Oh." Jace frowns, mind doing a strange little flip as he processes this. "Alright, fair enough. I'm just going to go out for a little while, then I'll come right back. I promise I'm completely safe." 

 

"Okay," Simon says slowly, lips tipping down. He takes another steadying breath, then plasters on a wobbly smile. "Be careful, I- I'll see you when you get back then." 

 

Jace has the strange urge to walk over and touch Simon, just reach out and put his hand on his shoulder or something. He ignores that and flashes Simon a quick smile before walking right out of the apartment. He has to take a moment, just a short one, and then he's off. 

 

It doesn't take him long to get to the office. He spends majority of the walk watching people as they push past him, his thoughts a little scrambled. He thinks about the past few weeks, about the strange routine that his life has become. Every week, he goes to therapy - twice this week, in this case. At  _ least  _ once a week, people come over for dinner - usually Alec, Magnus, and Izzy, but Maia and Luke sometimes stop by too. In the days in between, he and Simon go out and find things to do to keep themselves busy, deciding without ever talking about it that they refuse to get back into another slump. They have their downtime too, where they sit and watch TV or read in quiet. 

 

It's not all perfect. They still don't sleep properly, often waking up to hoarse shouts on opposite ends of the couch, and Jace is beginning to wonder if he'll ever sleep without a nightmare again. Jace has had a total of three more panic attacks since they've been back, but Simon walked him through each one. Sometimes, Jace feels that old crippling fear if Simon leaves the room, but Simon  _ always  _ comes back, so it has gotten a lot easier to spend time apart. 

 

Therapy, as it stands, has gotten a lot harder. Charles - the man insists on being called by his first name - doesn't let him get away with much. He's kind and funny, but he also doesn't let Jace skirt around the topics he wants to avoid. He draws admissions from Jace like it's his job - and Jace supposes it really is. Each session is harder than the last, especially as they delve deeper into each of his issues, but it's almost… cathartic. Jace leaves every session feeling worse for wear, tired and angry and never wanting to go back, but there is something else too. It's a lightness on his shoulders, like talking about the things that hurt is some kind of mental exercise that leaves him with the sense that his brain is feeling the pleasant ache his muscles feels when he finds time to train. It hurts, but it's also good, so he always goes back. 

 

Today is for one thing and one thing only. 

 

Charles greets him with a casual smile, leaning behind his desk and snapping his suspenders in the way he does that makes Jace snort. "Well, well. I'm going to be honest, Jace, I did not expect to see you back here so soon." 

 

Jace flops down into the suspiciously comfortable chair and rolls his eyes. "Had something I wanted to talk to you about." 

 

"Well, my ears are open." Charles reaches up to wiggle his earlobes because he's weird like that. Jace likes his quirkiness though, so he chuckles. "What are we talking about today?" 

 

It takes Jace a moment. This is new. Usually, Charles steers the conversation to where he deems it important to go. He listens, sure, but he seems to have the topics picked out for each session, sometimes picking up with something he noticed from the session before. 

 

This time, Jace has to guide the conversation. He doesn't know where to start, not at first, so he just croaks out, "There was this girl…" 

 

Charles seems to sense that Jace is floundering because he takes over. "Who was she to you?" 

 

"A friend. Lover. I don't- I'm not sure. But she was important." 

 

"Tell me about her." 

 

"She was… amazing. Everything about her. Fierce, loyal, determined. She was kind too, always seemed to know me better than everyone else, even people who had known me for most of my life. It was like she could look at me and- and just  _ see  _ me." 

 

"She sounds lovely." 

 

Jace clears his throat, blinking rapidly. "She was. She, uh, died two months ago." 

 

"I see." Charles hums and writes something down on his pad. Jace hates when he does that, hates that his issues have been reduced to bullet points, but Charles has assured him that it's a necessary evil because of his shitty memory. Charles sits his pen down and looks at him. "What do you know about caterpillars, Jace?" 

 

"Not much, if I'm honest." 

 

"You know they become butterflies, yes?" 

 

Jace frowns, not sure where this is going. "Yeah. They make a cocoon and break out of it, right?" 

 

"It's a whole process, but to sum it up, yes exactly. There's this quote by Lao Tzu:  _ what the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly.  _ Let me ask you something, are you religious?" 

 

"Not, uh… not really." 

 

Charles gives him a gentle smile. "This girl, she's clearly left an impact on you." 

 

"Yeah," Jace rasps, "she has." 

 

"You aren't the same after losing her." 

 

"No, I'm not." 

 

"Do you think that you'd be here right now if she had never passed away?" 

 

"I probably wouldn't need to be." 

 

Charles peers at him over his glasses, an unimpressed eyebrow arching. "We both know that's not true, which is entirely okay." 

 

"Right," Jace scoffs, crossing his arms and taking in a deep breath. "So, no, I guess I wouldn't be." 

 

"Just because she isn't here anymore doesn't mean that she's gone entirely." Charles looks at him softly, threading his fingers together on the top of his desk as he leans forward. "There are pieces of her left behind, existing in your life, and that will never fade. Death in itself is not a horrific event, but the echo it leaves behind has the power to destroy the world. But Jace, her memory hasn't destroyed you. Which means… she may have seemed a caterpillar, but her impact on the world, on  _ you,  _ has made her a butterfly." 

 

Jace is suddenly  _ crying.  _ Tears leak from his eyes, springing forth with no warning, sobs ripping their way out of him. It's like this- this  _ agony  _ and grief has existed within him this whole time, just waiting for the moment to pour out. He cries in earnest, curling in on himself and choking out wet, ugly sobs. Charles sits a box of tissues in front of him and goes silent, not saying a word as Jace just  _ breaks.  _

 

He doesn't know how long he falls apart, but when it's over, his eyes hurt and his head throbs. He snatches up a few tissues and swipes at his face, blowing his nose and hating himself all the while. He's exhausted after all the tears run out, left feeling like a spring has popped off in his chest and opened up some room for him to draw in air. He thinks that maybe Clary gifts him that somehow, and it's such a peaceful thought that he manages a small smile. 

 

"Thanks," Jace croaks. 

 

Charles smiles at him. "Of course. If you're up for it, why don't you tell me more about her?" 

 

Jace doesn't think he's going to be able to do it, but he mentions that she liked to draw, and Charles asks a question that has him set off talking; it's the most Jace has talked about Clary in months. 

 

He talks about their relationship, the confusion and guilt he still feels for falling out of love with her. He doesn't mention that it was a potion that caused it, always having to - as Simon jokes - muggle up his words. He rants about her hair for at least ten minutes because it really was a marvel. He even tells Charles the same story about his falcon - a subject they hadn't touched on yet - and brings up what she'd told him after such a story, what she taught him by her insistence that love is powerful. He scowls a little when Charles makes another note, but he doesn't let that stop him from talking about Clary like he suddenly desperately wants to. 

 

It's nice, even if it stings. Words pour out of him, abruptly needing to exist in the air. It feels good to talk about her, feels like peeling a scab away to see slightly pink skin that is still in the process of healing - a little raw and tender, but no sign of blood at all. 

 

Jace even brings up the struggle of talking to his family and friends about her. He swallows and looks at the wall as he admits, "I feel like I don't have the right to bring her up, to just… introduce the pain of her being gone if I don't have to." 

 

"Perhaps you could simply ask," Charles suggests easily. "When you want to talk about her to someone, it's as easy as asking if they want you to. If they don't, you can respect that. If they do, you can talk about whatever it is that's on your mind. They say misery loves company, but I say that grieving deserves it. Sometimes, mourning is less likely to leave lasting damage when it is amongst those you love. Supporting someone else through it provides you the same chance at relief." 

 

Jace huffs a short laugh. "That's going to be my homework, isn't it?" 

 

"Why, Jace, I do believe you have me all figured out," Charles says lightly, lips quirking. 

 

"I'll let you know how it goes," Jace replies, shaking his head in exasperation. 

 

Charles has this thing where he provides Jace with  _ homework.  _ It's not anything to do with actual work, but more of a healthy task he wants Jace to do. Add a snack into his diet, write down a list of things he likes about himself, try to meditate before sleeping, plan an event with family and friends - it all seems odd and pointless to Jace, but Charles insists he make an attempt and report back how it goes at the next session. Sometimes, Jace does the homework just fine, even notes the small change it provides in his life, which never fails to make Charles beam in pride. Other times, Jace doesn't do the homework at all, simply unable to, which leaves Charles working to figure out what they can do to make those harder tasks a bit easier. 

 

Jace vaguely thinks that Charles isn't paid enough. 

 

When the timer on the desk goes off, signaling the end of the session, they say their very casual goodbyes before Jace strolls out the office. 

 

He takes one step outside the office, closes his eyes, and breathes. He just stands there as still as possible, breathing slow and even, trying to quiet his mind. The world around him - honking cars, the slight smell of pollution that New York can't seem to escape, even the light patter of rain against his cheeks as the weather takes a turn for the worst - it all melts away for one brief second. In that small fold of time, it almost feels like he'll open his eyes and Clary will be right next to him, waiting with her signature smile. That feeling spreads warm and thick, like honey, through his chest; he feels his own lips curl in response. 

 

All the way home, he feels lighter. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


"Simon, you're not packing me lunch." 

 

Holding up the brown paper bag, Simon arches an eyebrow in challenge. "I already did." 

 

Jace heaves a sigh, lips tipping down. "I don't  _ need  _ you to pack me lunch. The institute provides it." 

 

"Take it anyway," Simon urges, pushing the bag towards him insistently. "Besides, I made those cookies you like, the ones with the little kisses on top. Bet the institute doesn't have that." 

 

"That, they do not," Jace agrees, snatching the bag immediately, opening the bag to poke around and see that Simon actually has made those cookies. Yeah, no way in hell Jace isn't taking that. "Alright, I'll be back by nine. Where will you be?" 

 

Simon can't bite back his grin. "I actually got a gig later, but I'll be finished before you get back. I'll also stop in to visit Maia at some point." 

 

Jace hums, folding the bag back up. "We can just meet at the Hunter's Moon if you want." 

 

"Alright, sounds like a plan to me. I'll be there. Now, go do your thing, Shadowhunter." 

 

"Don't miss a lyric." 

 

"Don't die." 

 

"I'll do my best." 

 

Simon watches him head to the door, but before Jace can get outside, he blurts out, "You'll text me, right? I mean, in between slaying demons and stuff." 

 

Jace throws him an amused look. "Yes, Simon, I'll text you in between slaying demons and stuff." 

 

"Great. Okay, yeah. Just-" 

 

"Simon, I'll be fine." 

 

"Right." Simon smiles a little, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. "Eat your lunch." 

 

"I will," Jace promises, then walks out the door. 

 

He's going back to work. Well, part-time anyway. He and Alec worked it out to ease him back into the transition, something that Jia Penhallow - the Consul - had signed off on. He thinks she only agreed to it because she feels guilty about Clary. 

 

Either way, Jace is working from morning to night and on-call, rather than twenty-four hours straight. He's being worked back into patrols, given missions, expected to train, the whole shebang. On one hand, he's very excited about getting to go back and do what he loves; on the other hand, he's anxious as hell about it. 

 

Jace is a far cry from the guy he was two months ago, the one who hadn't known whether his world was real or not. That doesn't mean he isn't worried he'll go off the rails at some point, but like Simon pointed out, he has to get back on the horse eventually. So, he's going to do his damndest to make it through without losing his shit. 

 

Alec greets him as he's heading in, his bow slung over his shoulder, mouth pressed into a firm line. Izzy informs him that there are demons migrating towards Central Park. Before Jace can even get a question out, he's told to go grab his weapons and follow them. So, just like that, he's on a mission. 

 

It goes a lot better than he'd expected. 

 

There's something to the way his body seems unable to forget the dance of being a Shadowhunter - cutting down demons, activating runes, standing steady with his siblings. It's almost too easy; he doesn't even miss a beat. Well, his body strains a little because of the recent lack of activity, but that small dip in time where he hasn't done anything can't compare to the lifelong training he's had. So, he glides right back into it like he never left. 

 

It's good, actually - the fighting. There's no uncertainty in it, no hesitation, no stop between whirling his body and focusing on his targets. This doesn't require thought, doesn't demand emotion, and Jace remembers all too well why he loves it. 

 

When it's over, Jace grins at Izzy and Alec, his chest heaving, and their answering smiles are just as bright. It's like missing pieces of himself are being dusted off and slotted back into place, making him stand up taller and feel more at home in his skin than he has in a long time. As they head home, all a little keyed up with adrenaline from the victory, Jace's phone rings, displaying Simon's name on the screen. 

 

"Hey!" Jace chirps, shoving his phone between his shoulder and ear as he wipes the ichor off his blade and strolls along with Alec and Izzy. 

 

"It was  _ amazing!"  _ Simon blurts out, voice as exuberant as Jace feels. 

 

For a split second, Jace thinks Simon means the mission, thinks that Simon somehow knows what he's feeling, but then he remembers that Simon had a gig today. The blade is suddenly unimportant; Jace shoves it at a baffled Izzy and shifts so he can get a better grip on the phone. He's smiling wide, picking up his pace as his excitement doubles. 

 

"What, did they love your mediocre singing?" Jace asks, chuckling at Simon's vague offended noise. 

 

Simon doesn't linger on offense long. "Dude, they totally loved it! The place that booked me already wants to make it a semi-regular thing, and I told them yes, of course. But shit, I'm going to have to write a whole new set because I can't keep doing the same songs, you know? And someone tried to  _ tip  _ me, can you believe that? You should have been here; it was literally the  _ best  _ feeling in the world. They were digging it, man. I've got  _ vibes.  _ Oh! And you're not gonna believe this, but…" 

 

Jace carries on walking, his excitement fizzling out to something much softer. Simon rambles, going on and on about how amazing the experience was, and Jace listens with rapt attention, _hmm_ ing in all the right spots, even nodding his head as if Simon can see him. When Simon's rendition of the amazing experience comes to a stop, pointedly closing off with Simon garbling out excited noises that lack vowels and are only made up for by the inflection of joy in his tone, Jace grins down at his shoes. 

 

"That's great," Jace says, and it really is. 

 

Simon sighs happily. "Yeah. What about you? How's your first day going?" 

 

"Well, I'm covered in demon ichor and my knees are not very happy about the flip I did off a tree about twenty minutes ago, but it's going alright." 

 

"You're such an old man." 

 

"Says the guy who still reads newspapers." 

 

"I like the comics, shut up. No, seriously, is it going okay? Are you having- do you even have fun killing demons? Is that a thing?" 

 

Jace huffs a short laugh. "Yeah, I'm having fun. It's all very intensely gratifying." 

 

"Well, I'm glad." Simon hums, sounding genuinely pleased. "Did you eat your lunch?" 

 

"Ah," Jace says delicately, wincing, "I haven't exactly had the time. Slaying demons doesn't exactly come with a lot of breaks." 

 

"Jace!" Simon's reprimand is loud enough that Jace tugs the phone from his ear with a grimace. When he puts it back, Simon is talking rapidly. "-exactly what I said! It's almost six in the afternoon! You mean to tell me you haven't had anything to eat since those omelets you made this morning?" 

 

Jace tsks. "Those omelets were very filling, thank you very much." Simon makes a strangled sound, this time sounding at his wits end. So, Jace heaves a sigh, rolls his eyes, and says, "Fine, I'll eat as soon as we get back. We're heading back as I speak." 

 

"Good." Simon huffs. "Pictures or it didn't happen. Don't make me show up and shove cookies down your throat. Also, does this mean you're getting off early?" 

 

"No need, I'll be eating those cookies as soon as I get back," Jace assures him, lips twitching. "And no, I'm still on the clock until nine. You can never be sure when the world is in danger, you know." 

 

"Still the Captain America I know and am constantly annoyed by," Simon says, the words so endlessly fond that Jace feels as if his chest has suddenly taken on an expanding balloon. 

 

"And you're still the biggest dork alive," Jace shoots back, just as fond. "Alright, we're about to be back, and I can't very well eat if I'm talking, can I?" 

 

Simon hums. "Don't you  _ dare  _ throw out the all natural, low-fat yogurt I packed either. I'll know if you do, so don't." 

 

"You  _ know  _ I don't like that shit."

 

"Dude, it's mango flavored and everything. I do know how to compromise." 

 

"I'm calling bullshit. You don't compromise on  _ anything.  _ You never let me wear that Oasis shirt, you always make me sweep, and you object to any and all music I attempt to play." 

 

"That's because I'm not letting you curse my stereo with classical music when I have much better options to play. Also, stop distracting me. Eat the yogurt; it's on my bucket list." 

 

"That's cheating." 

 

"Your face is cheating. Eat the yogurt."

 

"Fine," Jace mutters, rolling his eyes. "I'll eat the shitty yogurt, but since we're compromising, I want to pick the music on the way home tonight." 

 

Simon just laughs and says, "No," before hanging up on him. As soon as Jace tugs the phone from his ear, his screen lights up with a message from Simon that just reads:  _ Eat the yogurt.  _

 

Jace just shakes his head and smiles. 

 

"So," Izzy pipes up, and only then does Jace remember that his siblings exist. 

 

Which, that's a pretty shitty thing, honestly. It's not his fault though; Simon was being  _ Simon,  _ and Jace had just… forgot. He clears his throat and shoves his phone back into his pocket, shooting them what he hopes is a casual smile. The world is suddenly back into focus, existing outside of Simon's voice in his ear, and that's a world that dredges up certain moments he'd like to avoid. For example, this exact moment now - the one where Izzy is staring at him with a sharp grin and Alec's eyebrows are trying to get acquainted with his hairline. 

 

"So," Alec echoes, that one word so dry that Jace suddenly wants something to drink. 

 

Jace frowns at them. "So?" 

 

Izzy and Alec exchange a look. They do not do that often - share looks that Jace isn't in on, conversing with their eyes alone, in a way only siblings can, and not having Jace understand what the fuck is going on. He decides he does not like it at all. 

 

"You and Simon," Izzy says slowly, tossing his blade back over casually. She tilts her head, waiting. 

 

Jace frowns harder. "Me and Simon?" 

 

"You two are…" Alec trails off and gestures a little wildly, waving his hands around like he can't grasp the words he wants to say but they exist around him. 

 

"We are…" Jace echoes, still not sure where this is going exactly. They stare at him long enough that he grows uncomfortable. As they stroll along, he tries to fill the silence with what he and Simon are exactly. "Living together? Friends? Getting along? Not killing each other? What?" 

 

It's their turn to frown. 

 

Alec says, "Right. So… that's all?" 

 

"Uh," Jace mutters, "yeah?" 

 

Izzy makes a small noise, her lips tucking in like she has to hold words back. She blows out a long breath and says, "So, you two are friends?" 

 

"Yes," Jace tells her firmly, frowning again. "He's not actually that bad of a guy. I thought you liked him?" 

 

"I do." Izzy's eyebrows jump at him immediately coming to Simon's defense. "I just- _ we  _ just-" 

 

"Don't drag me into this," Alec cuts in, shaking his head quickly. "I didn't say a  _ word."  _

 

Jace rolls his eyes. "Seriously, what are you getting at? Just spit it out." 

 

Izzy bites her lip, suddenly looking unsure. "Jace, you know we love you no matter what, right? You can  _ always  _ talk to us about anything. We'll never judge you and we'll be here for you." 

 

That has Jace grinding to a screeching halt. As if they sensed it, they both pause in walking to regard him with twin looks of patience. He stares between them and thinks about his homework, thinks about the therapy session he has in two days where he'll have to tell Charles he couldn't do it. But he hasn't even  _ tried,  _ and if he's ever going to have a chance, this is the perfect opening for it. 

 

So, carefully, Jace asks, "Can I- is it okay if- would it be alright if we talk about- about Clary?" 

 

Whatever they're expecting, that clearly isn't it. Their expressions melt into surprise, then caution. Again, they share a look, but Jace can easily read it this time. It's the look of agreement that they'll get through this one way or another, that they'll stand tall and bare their teeth through the onslaught of emotion. Jace knows that look, has seen it in the mirror plenty, and he takes a second to think that they could probably use therapy too. 

 

Alec clears his throat. "Yeah, Jace, we can do that." 

 

So, they do. 

 

Jace starts it off, just says he misses her, and Izzy agrees. It's stilted at first, short statements that hurt coming out, sentences falling from their lips with tension and clouding the air around them. But then, Izzy tells a little story, mentions how Clary once attempted to try and teach her to draw dragons, and from there, it takes off. As they walk back at a much slower pace, they tell anecdotes that get easier and easier to let out. Jace is honestly a bit surprised by some of the things Alec has to say; it seems that he and Clary had become closer in secret, which shouldn't be as funny as it is. 

 

Jace tells them about the love potion, about the emptiness he feels when he thinks on what it was like to be in love with Clary, then follows that up with how incredibly guilty he feels for it. He pours out everything he couldn't with Charles, goes into detail, and he listens to them with an eagerness that makes his heart twist in his chest. 

 

He thinks they all try and pull her back into existence with them, even without meaning to. It's bittersweet, harsh in the way that she isn't here with them, gentle in the way she'll never truly be gone. 

 

Charles, of course, had been entirely right. They soften into it, an ease settling around them. And it's not  _ easy;  _ Izzy cries and her words sometimes don't come out right from her thick throat, Alec still carries a lot of guilt for what happened with Jocelyn and his hands shake, and Jace lives on the precipice of having a panic attack the entire time. No, it isn't easy, but there is an ease that comes with it, like letting air out of a too full tire - what probably is a painful process, but a relief all the same. 

 

And their words splinter off naturally after one particular memory that they revisit together. It leaves them laughing and shoving at each other playfully, the relief just a bit heavier than the pain. As the institute comes into view, that's where they leave it, letting it close on that happy moment. 

 

Just before they climb up the steps to the institute, Jace clears his throat and says, "I, uh, go to therapy. My therapist - Charles, he's a pretty weird guy - says it better, but what he told me was that… Clary lives on through us, even if we don't realize it. And it's a nice thought, so I just- I thought you guys could benefit from hearing it." 

 

"Therapy?" Alec blurts, confused. 

 

"Yeah." Jace clears his throat. "Simon and I talked about it, and I decided to go, so I've been going for about a month now. Just once a week; well, twice last week, but you know. It's- it helps, believe it or not. So, yeah… therapy." 

 

"There are some things the mundanes have a grasp on that we do not," Izzy says softly. "I still go to meetings sometimes, when I can, when I need to. I'm proud of you, Jace." 

 

"If it helps, then I support it," Alec says calmly, as if it's that simple, and for him, maybe it is. 

 

Jace smiles at them. "Thanks." 

 

With that, they head in together. Jace searches out the lunch Simon packed for him. He eats the yogurt first and snaps a picture of the empty container, sending it to Simon with the emoji that flips the bird. He keeps his cookies out of reach from his siblings, but then turns right around and gives them each one, which leaves him with only one of his own; the way they praise Simon for it makes losing two cookies worth it. 

 

After that, Jace mingles around the institute in spurts. He actually has a few friends here outside of his parabatai and his sister, so he strikes up a casual conversation with a few people, never lingering too long. He texts Simon on his patrol, the night bleeding in and taking over dusk, and it's probably the best day he's had in a long time. 

 

Just as his shift ends, he heads back inside and makes a beeline for Alec's office. He doesn't knock before he walks in, which earns him an eyeful of Magnus and Alec making out like a couple of rowdy teenagers. He covers his eyes and makes a big production of being scarred for life, but he's honestly a little warmed by the sight of them being so wrapped up in each other. 

 

"Some things never change," Magnus muses, pulling away from Alec with a soft sigh. 

 

Jace rolls his eyes. "I'd leave you to it, but I actually stopped by to invite you to Hunter's Moon. You too, Magnus. I'm heading there to meet Simon, and since he did good with his gig today, I'm assuming there will be a little bit of a celebration." 

 

"Could be fun," Magnus says, raising his eyebrows at Alec, lips twitching in amusement. 

 

"Yeah, sure, let me finish up this report and I'll meet you outside," Alec replies with a shrug, walking around his desk and narrowing his eyes in annoyance at the papers waiting for him. 

 

Magnus offers Jace a faint smile. "He can only be distracted for so long. Let's leave him to it." 

 

They head outside in comfortable silence, sticking their heads in to ask Izzy if she wants to come - she politely declines, has a plan to go to one of her meetings tonight. They continue on their way, sharing a brief smile as they walk out the door and down the steps. 

 

Jace doesn't mean to, but he surveys Magnus closely. As far as he's aware, Magnus still doesn't have his magic, and he can't help but wonder how he's adjusting. There is slightly less fluidity to his movements, but not enough to be noticeable to anyone who doesn't know him well. He still gesticulates wide and with a flourish, sauntering with an ease that suggests honey flows through his veins rather than blood. There's not as much glitter in his makeup, but Jace assumes that has to do with how much a pain glitter can be if it isn't just magicked away. Overall, how Magnus  _ looks  _ like he's handling it doesn't matter. 

 

So, Jace bravely plucks up the courage to clear his throat and ask, "How are you?" 

 

"Oh?" Magnus says lightly, looking up from the dying flower bed by the door. "I am- well." He blinks and straightens up. "I was going to say that I am fine, but I doubt you'd want me to lie to you, as it were. Alec mentioned something about you being more… open, as well as going to therapy." 

 

"Told you that, did he?" Jace mutters, wrinkling his nose and averting his eyes. 

 

"No, Jace, do not be angry with him. Alec cares about you very much; it was not his intention to betray your trust, I assure you. He just- well, he brought it up because he was suggesting that  _ I  _ could go to therapy. He's been a little… worried about me." 

 

"Be straight with me, Magnus, and just-" 

 

"Impossible," Magnus cuts him off, lips curling up. 

 

Jace blinks. "Uh, what?" 

 

"Be straight with you - impossible. Seeing as I'm-" 

 

"Seriously?" 

 

Magnus chuckles, waving a hand lazily. "Very well. Continue with your serious request." 

 

"Alright, be- just tell me the truth. Do you think that Alec is worried because he has a reason to be?" 

 

"Are you implying that I'm not okay?" 

 

"If you were okay after everything you've been through, there wouldn't be any humanity in you." 

 

Magnus flinches back, looking aghast for a second. Jace holds his ground, crossing his arms and staring right at him. There are some situations one should approach lightly, then there's  _ Magnus.  _ Jace isn't going to do this carefully, not when Magnus is well versed in how to dip and dodge anything he doesn't seem to want to talk about - he's had centuries worth of practice to make it a fine art; Jace's little  _ avoiding things  _ quirk is like the tiniest speck of sand compared to Magnus' entire desert. 

 

"These have been trying times, certainly, but I am more than capable of weighing my own mental state. Right now, there are more pressing matters than my frustrations and grievances." 

 

Jace clicks his tongue. "See, yeah, I'm gonna have to stop you there, Magnus. I know you're centuries old and you're  _ Alec's  _ boyfriend, but I'm gonna say this anyway, even if it's not my place. Those little issues you've got, the ones that seem trivial and unimportant, they stack up on each other, building and growing - it's usually a quicker process than you'd think, which is a bitch of a situation to land yourself in. You have  _ centuries  _ worth of issues, and it's  _ my  _ fault that the one constant you had through all of it is gone." 

 

"That is not entirely true; I made my choice-" 

 

"For Alec, because you love him. Maybe even for me a little, because you care and you're just that good of a person. But that choice came up because of me, and no matter what you say, you can't erase that." 

 

"I don't blame you, Jace," Magnus says softly, eyes sad and wide. 

 

Jace nods. "I know. I'm glad you don't. I'm sorry anyway. If I could fix it, I would - you have to know that. Whatever I'd have to do, I would do it." 

 

Magnus looks a little more tender after that. A strain leaves his face that Jace hasn't even been aware of, and to see it gone makes him feel like he can breathe a little easier. It's almost as if he's going on a forgiveness tour, soaking it all up and breaking a little under the weight of it. Every single time, it hurts so,  _ so  _ good. 

 

"You've changed," Magnus notes quietly. 

 

"Not really. I mean, a little, I guess. I died, Clary died, Simon kept me from losing my fucking mind, and sometimes I wake up and get one moment where I forget that everything that could have went wrong,  _ did.  _ And I go to therapy now because that makes complete sense, doesn't it?" 

 

"Your point is that you didn't change, that everything else did and you just… went with it?" 

 

Jace shrugs casually. "Didn't have much of a choice after everything with- after all of it. We all have our own shit, Magnus. It's our job to sort through it." 

 

"And you think me going to therapy will help me do that?" Magnus arches an eyebrow in challenge, flicking his fingers like he can bat away the mere suggestion. "As you said, I have centuries worth of  _ shit  _ to sort, so therapy wouldn't do much. Situations such as mine cannot be condensed." 

 

"They probably shouldn't be, but they can. I go to a mundane therapist, which means I have to, uh, condense things of my own. It helps sort through the shit that  _ can  _ be condensed and give us room to sort through the rest on our own. Don't you want to just… feel better?" 

 

"If it were as simple as that, yes, but-" 

 

"Look, I'm not saying that therapy, specifically, is what you need. Maybe you'll have something else entirely, like yoga and, ya know,  _ actually  _ talking to your boyfriend and letting him know you're not okay. Because here's the thing, he already knows you're not. Why? Because he isn't either. But you two could be okay if you try, and that's all I want for Alec. If it weren't for Simon… I probably wouldn't be here right now, and all of that came from me opening my mouth and admitting that I wasn't okay. Now, I go to therapy and I  _ want  _ to be okay." 

 

Magnus is silent for a long moment, just staring at him, his face spasming through many different expressions. Jace goes still, blinking slow, and he  _ knows  _ Magnus doesn't have magic anymore, but he's still pinned in place by his presence. After a moment, Magnus settles for looking curious, his eyes sparking with interest. 

 

"Do you, at all? Feel better, I mean." 

 

"Sometimes." Jace frowns slightly, looking down to his boots and swallowing thickly. "There are spurts where I think I'll actually make it through and come out on the other side. There are also moments where I'm worse for- for  _ trying,  _ where I come down and everything feels so much harder because I tried to climb my way back up in the first place. But if things are going to be horrible and hurt all the time anyway, why not try for some peace every now and again, right?" 

 

"That's very… introspective of you," Magnus comments in open surprise, eyebrows rising. 

 

Jace wrinkles his nose. "I  _ know.  _ It's terrible. Not my fault, of course. I blame Charles - my therapist - and Simon," he mutters, rolling his eyes. 

 

Magnus snorts delicately. "It seems Simon has impacted your life a great deal recently." 

 

"Yeah," Jace says, a smile curling at the corner of his lips fondly without permission, "I guess he has." 

 

Magnus hums, eyeing him almost curiously, his own lips twitching into a smirk, and Jace doesn't like that knowing look at all. He's saved from whatever Magnus could say by Alec stepping outside and smiling slightly at them, casually walking over to loop an arm around Magnus. 

 

"Ready to go?" Alec asks casually. 

 

"Beyond ready," Jace replies quickly, flashing a smile and trying to keep his pace normal. 

 

It's not that he's a little overeager to see Simon, except that's exactly what it is. They spend time apart pretty often these days, but it's never for this long. And sure, they've texted back and forth throughout the day, but it's not the same thing as actually being around him. Jace tamps down on it because he has dignity; he spends majority of the time heading to Hunter's Moon talking to Alec and Magnus, teasing them when they playfully bicker, putting his opinion in on whatever topic they jump to from the one before it. If they see the excited flutter of his hands as they draw closer, they take it upon themselves not to mention it. 

 

When he steps through the door, Jace freezes for a moment. There's a split second where his stomach falls away, leaving him dazed and freaking out a little. He hasn't been here since… since  _ everything,  _ and he's suddenly recalling the time he met Lilith and unknowingly drank her poison, the time he fixated on Luke's mundane cop partner and attacked her, and it's a little like getting the breath punched out of him without warning. He can feel his face drain of color, can feel how he sways on his feet, and he thinks maybe Magnus and Alec notice too. 

 

But then, Simon's laughter - loud and warm - snags his attention, making his gaze snap over and latch on him. Simon's at the bar, grinning and nearly in pieces from laughing at whatever Maia tells him. He looks relaxed, happy even. Jace stares and stares, taking in calming breaths, letting everything that  _ was  _ stop trampling over what  _ is.  _

 

It helps when Simon looks over at him, just sweeping his gaze around the bar like he feels eyes on him or he's looking for something himself. When he sees Jace, his face lights up even more; he barely says his goodbyes to Maia before he's walking over. Jace can feel warmth pool into his stomach, filling up the space that just fell away, and it is, without a doubt, the greatest feeling in the world. 

 

Jace thinks he might have felt it once before, but he can't pinpoint when exactly. 

 

But Simon is suddenly right there with his bright smile, saying, "Hey, you made it! About time too, I was just about to call," and Jace suddenly doesn't really care to compare feelings from the past, too caught up with the ones in the present. 

 

Jace smiles and says, "You better tell me you ordered me a drink already or I'm never eating that stupid yogurt you buy ever again." 

 

"Check and mate, Jace," Simon chirps, reaching out to snag his wrist and pull him over to the bar where a drink is already waiting right next to a shot of blood. "Looks like you'll be eating yogurt for as long as I pack it, which will now be forever." 

 

"I'm not gonna live forever, you know." Jace arches an eyebrow and picks up his drink, winking at Maia and getting an eyeroll for his troubles. 

 

Simon waves a hand. "Technicality. So, how was your day?" 

 

If anyone were to ask, Jace would not be able to tell where Alec and Magnus get off to. He wouldn't be able to describe what goes on around him, not even the distinct sounds of people playing pool (which, unbeknownst to him, is where Alec and Magnus get off to), or the boisterous laughter of different patrons, or the amount of times Maia walks past them with drinks in hand and a strange amusement on her face. Not even to save his own life, Jace wouldn't be able to say one thing about this night outside of the time he spends with Simon. 

 

No one would ever be brave enough to ask, but if they did, Jace would be fully capable of describing every single thing about Simon that night; from the glow of the overhead lights that makes his brown eyes flash like whiskey, the slight pitch of  _ soft  _ in his calm laughter, the way his hands flail around and his body leans forward in his excitement, all the way down to the warm bubble of happiness that seems to encase them in their own space, separate from everything else. 

 

And no one could possibly know, so they'd never ask, and that's a good thing because Jace doesn't think about how, on the way home, their fingers link together over the cup holders and don't let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I do so enjoy them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another stupidly long chapter. Me = zero self-control. You're welcome. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: panic attack, uncertainty about reality, therapist advice

Objectively, it's a good thing. 

 

Maybe it's that Jace isn't prepared for it, maybe it's that he's not expecting such an onslaught of emotion in the moment, maybe it's because - and worryingly enough, this one feels like the biggest maybe - he is stunned to realize how much it ruins him. 

 

They're all there, of course, because when doesn't the universe love a good laugh? 

 

They're in the ops room, and Simon's only there because he forgot to give Jace his lunch before he left this morning. Luke's there because Alec needs him to sign off on something as the alpha, so he spends his time talking to them and waiting for Alec to eventually lead him to the office. It's nice and light, all of them standing around and talking, and Jace is smiling widest of all. 

 

"No, seriously," Simon insists, shoving the paper bag at Jace, "they're called cuties and they're  _ wonderful.  _ They're like tiny oranges, okay?" 

 

"I'm not betraying mangos like this," Jace shoots back, possibly for the fourth time. 

 

Alec snorts and Magnus, who's here to report a suspicious client, gently says, "Jace, the mangos wouldn't actually know, you're aware of this, right?" 

 

Jace just throws him a mock glare. "Say what you want, they'd never taste the same after. They'd  _ know.  _ Simon, I'm giving it to Izzy." 

 

"And I will eat it gladly; they're quite good," Izzy declares shamelessly, holding her hand out. 

 

"Don't you dare." Simon first points a warning finger at Izzy, then quickly flicks it to Jace after she arches an eyebrow, wisely fixating on the one person it will have power over. Firmly, he says, "It's on my bucket list, Jace." 

 

"Does your bucket list consist of just me?" Jace mutters, snatching the bag and keeping it closed, wordlessly admitting defeat. 

 

Simon snorts. "You'd be surprised." 

 

Something about the tone Simon uses is funny because everyone cracks up, even Alec, and Luke's laughter is the loudest. Later, Jace will marvel at how quickly that moment burst, like a bubble popping as it rose too high. 

 

Objectively, it's a good thing. It  _ should  _ be. 

 

The door to the institute bangs open, and they all turn as one to stare at whomever would make such an entrance. Clary walks in as if she never even left, marching in with her head swiveling around. The moment she sees them, she comes to a halt and her eyes fill with tears, glittering pretty with emotion. 

 

Up until that moment, Jace used to hate the fact that the world was so self-righteous that it never stopped turning, never froze time for one second, never gave anyone a chance to just catch their breath. Yet, as he stares at Clary, the world seems to come to a complete standstill; everything abruptly  _ stops,  _ even his heart, he's sure. 

 

There is a beat where no one moves or even breathes. Clary, ever the brave one, breaks that by taking a hesitant step forward, and everything breaks loose, the world quickly making up for lost time. Simon is the first to move; no hesitation, he's just a blur of movement as he crosses the room in less than a split second and wraps her up into his arms, crushing her into a hug. Clary clings to him and cries like she doesn't know what else to do. 

 

They pass her off, hugging and crying and choking out questions, and they crowd around her without having a second thought. It's the first time Jace sees Luke cry, first time he sees Alec kiss a girl that he's not related to - on her forehead, but still. Jace hangs back, his mind completely blank. 

 

"Jonathan, he was- but I- and-" 

 

Jace catches snippets of what she's saying, but he isn't really listening, isn't even processing any of it. He just stares at the flash of her red hair between all the bodies surrounding her, like she's pollen and they're the bees that buzz around her in hope. He thinks he should be right there with them, but doesn't fucking  _ know.  _

 

He tries to break it down in his mind, tries to draw in a breath and work through the moment, but he's still holding his breath and it's like the world around him is crumbling. He can't fucking  _ think,  _ let alone feel; he suddenly doesn't know what's real anymore. He'd killed her, he knows he did, had learned to live with that guilt, but she stands there anyway. 

 

It doesn't take much of a leap to lose your mind. Charles says that someone named the Joker said that going crazy is like gravity - all it takes is one little push. Jace doesn't know why someone is named the Joker, nor does he think a therapist should be condoning such a quote, but in this moment, he fully understands the depth of that statement. 

 

Clary is his push. 

 

If she's alive, then this reality he's built for himself can't possibly be real. Perhaps Lilith crafted it on her own and waits for the perfect time to have him slaughter them all; he has to hand it to her, she did a damn good job with this one. But this? It's the crack in her chassis, the failure in the system; Jace knows that this is impossible. 

 

He thinks he'll get through it, that he'll push through and steal Simon's van, just drive until he's so far away that he can't hurt them - real or not, he refuses to. He thinks he can do it, but then Clary breaks away from everyone and stares right at him. Her eyes shine with tears, her breath hitching in her throat as she slowly draws closer, and Jace's head is starting to throb from lack of oxygen. 

 

"Jace," she chokes out, her voice strangled and inherently reverent. 

 

Jace jerks back, needing distance, needing to breathe, needing to run and never look back, needing- needing-  _ needing-  _

 

Simon is suddenly there, a hand pressed to each of his cheeks, eyes wide. "Jace, hey, listen to me. Serendipity,  _ serendipity.  _ It's real, it's-" 

 

"Simon?" Clary comes forward some more, looking confused now, and Jace struggles to back up some more. "What is-" 

 

_ "Stop,"  _ Simon says sharply, words firm as he jerks one arm out to keep her from coming any closer. He shakes his head. "Just- just back off for a second, okay? Back off." 

 

Clary looks stricken but stumbles back when Izzy reaches out and draws her away. Jace tries not to look at the expressions of his family, tries to look at Simon, but he can't  _ focus.  _ He can't seem to do anything, can't be free, can't even fucking breathe, and that's basic human function. 

 

Jace tries to speak, manages to wheeze, "S-" 

 

Simon shushes him. "I know, I know. It's real, okay? Can you nod your head if you believe me, can you do that? It's real, Jace, serendipity, nod for me." 

 

Jace jerks his head from side to side, dizzy with protesting lungs and a painful head. It is not a nod. 

 

"Okay." Simon takes a deep breath. "Alright, we're going to go, okay? You want to go? Get outside, get some fresh air?" 

 

Jace just stares at him, frozen in place, not one part of his body in working order. 

 

Simon swallows. "Okay," he rasps out, throwing a look over his shoulder. 

 

Then, without preamble, Jace is swung up into Simon's arms and darted away. He barely notices the transition, knows that it had been too fast for the others to see, and he's sure he'll be thankful for that later. For now, he clenches a fist into Simon's shirt and squeezes his eyes closed, still waiting for his lungs to kick start back up. 

 

Simon takes them home, leaves the van behind and everything, just spills them on the couch among their blankets and pillows. He sits with his legs crossed and holds Jace's hand to his chest, breathing in deep and careful, releasing slow and easy. Jace does his best to follow along. 

 

There's no one else there, just the two of them sitting across from each other on the couch, their knees bumping, breathing in the quiet. 

 

It could be hours or minutes before the fog in Jace's mind fades. He keeps his hand over Simon's unbeating heart, syncing the rise and fall of his own chest to the calm one beneath his fingers. They don't talk, but Jace internally goes through his five senses, grounding himself on his own. This feels real, if not impossible, but not impossible in the way that Clary being alive is. He'll have to ask; he's ashamed to. 

 

He does anyway. "Is it- was it real?" 

 

Simon nods. "Yes. She was there. She's alive." 

 

"How do you know that?" Jace drops his hand from Simon's chest and shoves it through his hair, hating how it trembles. "How can you just- how do you not  _ doubt?  _ What if- Simon, what if  _ you're  _ not real?" 

 

"Serendipity," Simon says immediately, leaning forward to stare at Jace seriously. "We agreed on that, didn't we? I'm not going to lie to you, Jace. That is  _ the  _ word - our word - and it exists here and now. It's real,  _ I'm  _ real, this is real." 

 

"But how can I be sure that it's real too?" 

 

"Because it came after. Because I'm asking you to. If you can't believe anything else, believe that, believe  _ me."  _

 

Jace swallows, sagging in himself. "How is she alive? That's not- it doesn't make  _ sense."  _

 

"She said something about- about Jonathan almost getting resurrected. It was close, but we stopped Lilith in time. I guess she didn't know that the blast would kill her, so instead of using her last act to do the final step of bring Jonathan back, she just moved her… lair - is that what it's called? - somewhere else. But then she died, which left Clary all the way across the world with a corpse and no idea how to get back home. Or, that's what she was saying anyway." 

 

"So, she's just been alive this whole time? We never even-  _ I  _ never even thought that- that she'd-" 

 

"Hey," Simon says gently, scooting forward even more and pressing both hands to Jace's knees, looking at him softly. "Listen to me, it's not our fault, okay? This one isn't on us. We had  _ no idea.  _ She got home, she made it back, it's  _ okay."  _

 

"But it's not." Jace drops his gaze, a hollow shame rocking like waves in his gut. "I'm not." 

 

"It's an adjustment, that's all it is. You didn't know. This is one of those big shocks, right? It doesn't feel real, but that doesn't mean it isn't." 

 

"I should've been  _ happy.  _ I should've-" 

 

"Nope, no, I'm not hearing that," Simon cuts him off firmly, shaking his head. "It took you by surprise; it's not fair to judge your initial reaction. And- and if you're not- if it isn't something that you can handle right now, or for a little while, that's fine too." 

 

"I miss her," Jace admits in a croak. He blinks slowly and looks up at Simon. "I miss her so much." 

 

Simon releases a quiet sigh. "I know. G- jeez, I  _ know.  _ But she's here, she's- it's going to be easier." 

 

"I don't know if- if it will. For me." Jace takes a deep breath, staring at Simon in unrestrained fear. "There's a lot we- there's a lot that's changed. It's not her fault, except it is in a way because she brought me back to life, but she didn't do anything  _ wrong.  _ And I can't even- I can't, Simon, I just can't." 

 

"Okay," Simon says calmly, warm brown eyes steady on his face. "So, let's get out of here. What do you say? Me and you - we can take another road trip, maybe start in on your bucket list, just for a week or two. You can come back a bit settled, then figure out a way to make that can't into a  _ can."  _

 

"I can't just run away, Simon." 

 

"It's not running away if you know you're coming back. It's just a little distance to figure out some stuff. People need that sometimes, need the space." 

 

"But what about you?" 

 

"What about me? I'd come with you, obviously." 

 

Jace shakes his head in frustration, his chest feeling tight again. "Your best friend just got back after you thought she was dead, Simon. You can't just- you don't want to up and leave." 

 

"I'm over the moon that she's back, trust me, and I can't  _ wait  _ to talk to her. I've missed her, I want to be around her and never let her go again, but things have changed." Simon moves his hands from Jace's knees and wraps his fingers around Jace's wrists instead, his gaze never wavering. "We were there for each other through her death, Jace. We'll be there for each other through her coming back to life. We've spent the last two and a half months getting through this  _ together,  _ and that's so important. Whatever you need, I'll be there to help." 

 

"But she's-" 

 

"She's  _ fine,  _ she'll continue to  _ be _ fine, and she'll be here when we get back." 

 

"That's- I can't let you do that." 

 

"Just try and stop me." 

 

"You're so fucking  _ selfless,  _ I hate you," Jace whispers, his voice cracking. 

 

Simon smiles at him. "Run away with me anyway?" 

 

"Fuck you." 

 

"I'll pack the bags." 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jace doesn't have a bucket list, per se. 

 

He's always known what his life and - eventually, probably at a young age - death would be like. Seeing as he's died already, he wasn't exactly  _ wrong.  _

 

He'd done everything he wanted before he died, as well as much more that he hadn't wanted. But he'd been a warrior, had experienced love, had saved the world, and when he died, he'd fulfilled everything that would have been on his bucket list before his final breath - including, of course, dying fighting for a cause worth believing in. 

 

Then, just as Simon had, he'd come back to life - just like that, just with one wish. And so, he has a life after death, one made of something entirely different than what his life before death had been. That means, also just like Simon, he has a chance at yet another bucket list - if he was into that sort of thing, which he's more inclined to it now after having experienced Simon's. 

 

Even still, when Simon asks him what he wants to do on this trip - it is his bucket list after all - Jace is left a little stumped. 

 

"Well, it's just like you said, Jace," Simon tells him seriously, stuffing their duffles with the things they'll need for the trip. "You have a chance, so what do you want to do?" 

 

Jace frowns at him. "I don't know," he admits. 

 

"Okay, fine." Simon sighs and zips the duffle up with a roll of his eyes. "Well, you enjoyed my road trip, right? Was there other stuff you wanted to do that we never got around to?" 

 

"Not really? I never- I mean, I just kind of went along with it. The stuff that wasn't planned was the stuff I enjoyed the most," Jace mutters, wrinkling his nose. 

 

Simon's eyes light up in delight. "Oh my g- oh, this is  _ perfect.  _ You're such a softie." 

 

"Shut up, I'm not." 

 

"You are." 

 

Jace scoffs. "Whatever. Maybe we shouldn't-" 

 

"No, nope, I'm not letting you get out of this. We've already talked about it, already talked to Alec and Maia about it, and we  _ are  _ doing this. You've even called Charles to push back the appointments." 

 

"Yeah, but-" 

 

"No buts," Simon insists, waggling a finger like an idiot. "Is there  _ one  _ thing that you wanted to do? Anything? It can be  _ anything."  _

 

Jace considers that, lips parting as his mind skitters around an idea. It's stupid,  _ really  _ stupid, but he had thought about it on their recent travels. They'd ended up in Richmond, Virginia at one point; Jace can still remember the Holocaust museum that Simon had tossed furtive looks at. It isn't so much something Jace wants to  _ do,  _ but more of a thing he wants to be around for while Simon does it. 

 

Jace knows how important Simon's Jewish history is to him, had figured it out over the time they've spent together, even back before they became friends. In a way, Jace understands it, but not  _ really,  _ not enough - he doesn't know the details, doesn't know all the facts, and for some reason, not knowing the depth of something important to Simon grates on his nerves. But he has no idea how to go about broaching the subject, doesn't even know if Simon would  _ want  _ to share that with him, doesn't think he has it in him to ask and get a negative response. 

 

So, Jace just coughs and says, "I, uh, don't know." 

 

Simon, oblivious and idiotic as he is, doesn't miss the expression in his face. "No, there's something. What was it?" 

 

"Not important." 

 

"Dude, come on, there's no need to be embarrassed. We literally fell off horses together." 

 

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm just- I don't know." 

 

"Well, tell me." 

 

"Simon, it's not-" 

 

"Seriously, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you or whatever. I mean, I'll pick on you about it if it's something like, I don't know, doing ballet. Well, actually, that's a very intense practice, and most ballet dancers are very athletic; leotards and all, they could probably kick your ass, which-" 

 

"Simon!" Jace reaches up and smacks his hand over Simon's mouth, shooting him a glare. Simon just grins around his fingers, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Jace cherishes it for a moment, well aware that the smile will fade once he says what he's planning to say next. "I just- back when we were in Richmond, there was that… museum. I wanted to go, I guess. To- to see what you- what it all meant to you. But we don't have to."  

 

As expected, Simon's smile fades. Jace drops his hand with a sigh, but Simon reaches out and catches it, slowly easing his fingers between Jace's and holding on tight. When Jace looks up, Simon's expression is a little tender, a little sad. 

 

"Oh," Simon says softly. 

 

Jace swallows. "Yeah, I don't- I'm not sure if it's something you'd want to do, but if you- if you  _ did,  _ I would go with you. I just thought-" 

 

"No, it's- it's okay," Simon reassures him, offering him a wobbly smile. "We could start there." 

 

"In Richmond?" 

 

"No, there's a- well, the Holocaust memorial; it's, uh, kinda like the  _ biggest  _ museum. It's in Washington D.C. and very… important. We could go there, then do other things you want to do." 

 

"Are you sure?" Jace asks warily. 

 

Simon clears his throat. "I've always wanted to. I mean, it would probably break my heart, but it's- I think it's important I see it. You being there would be a help too." 

 

"Okay," Jace says decisively, sitting up straight and squeezing Simon's hand. "Then, let's go." 

 

So, they do. 

 

It's strange how much has changed since they started their very first road trip. Jace knows, without a doubt, that he's not the same person he was when he'd piled into the van with Simon and didn't look back when they put New York behind them. Simon's right; this isn't running away at all. 

 

They'd made all the calls they'd needed to, much like last time. Simon had explained vaguely to Maia that they'd decided to take another trip; all the while, Jace had been telling Alec much the same thing. Alec had understood it was about Clary, but because he's the best parabatai to ever parabatai, he hadn't mentioned it and just told Jace to keep in touch. Jace had even taken the time to call Izzy and let her know personally this time; she'd been as supportive as Alec, but she'd also told him in a very soft voice that Clary is worried about him. Jace had cleared his throat and got off the phone quickly after that. 

 

Simon had actually called Clary. Jace wouldn't have known if he hadn't woken up - Simon had waited for Jace to fall asleep before making the call. But Jace had woken up to his quiet laughter and, pretending to still be asleep, he'd listened to the one-sided conversation. They'd talked for hours, catching up, but never talking about the very large elephant in the room - that being: Jace. And right before they'd hung up, Simon had informed her that he had something important to do and would be gone for a little while, assuring her he'd be back and they'd catch up in person then. 

 

Jace never told him that he'd listened in on that; he doesn't think he ever will. 

 

He also won't ever mention that he'd felt it when, immediately after that phone call, Simon had sighed heavily and moved across the couch to brush some of the hair on Jace's forehead to the side. That, too, is something he'll keep to himself, for both of their sakes. 

 

Arrangements made, they hit the road. 

 

They do go to the museum. Jace learns a lot, more than he'd like to know, and they don't even stay for the full experience. Simon lasts a little over an hour before he can't take it anymore, so Jace ushers him out and holds his hand when he breaks down in the van, crying shamelessly with his face pressed against the wheel. 

 

After, Jace decides that he'd like to go to an orchestra, to which Simon reacts by cracking up for at least twenty minutes straight. Yet, it's Simon that cries in the middle of the first song and for most of the rest. Jace pats his back and shoots mild smiles at on-lookers, internally thankful that these tears, at least, are the good kind. 

 

Still in Washington, they take a tour around the White House, and later that night, they think it would be a brilliantly stupid idea to climb to the top of the Abraham Lincoln monument and dangle their legs by his eyebrows. It's a very stupid thing to do, so of course they do it. That turns into breaking into the Smithsonian at close to three in the morning and giggling - that's mostly Simon - like idiots while avoiding the guards. As they go from exhibit to exhibit, Simon tells him in hushed tones about a movie where these exhibits come to life. That experience ends with a guard catching sight of them, Simon darting away at vampire speed and abandoning Jace to activate his rune to make him invisible to the mundane; they meet up outside and sprawl out in the too green grass, cackling as the sun comes up. 

 

Just before they leave Washington, they find themselves in a small boat that sways across a river with water so dark and clear that it seems black. A man stands at the end, pushing them across it and humming quietly, and Simon tells him that they do something like this in Venice. There are orchids all around, pink and pretty, a perfect contrast to the water beneath them. And while Simon tugs on his hand to point out various ducks and flowers, very openly and shamelessly excited, Jace stares at him fondly, mentally cursing up a storm at the unfortunately  _ soft  _ flutter his heart gives. 

 

Jace is many things, but he isn't  _ blind.  _ As good at avoiding certain things he has become, he's doing a shitty job of ignoring that feeling he gets when he sees Simon smile. It doesn't feel completely alien; it's almost as if he's felt it before, and it takes him an embarrassingly long time to realize where. While not entirely the same, it's vaguely reminiscent to the feeling he'd had with Clary, before the potion, before he was forced to forget it. 

 

_ Love,  _ his mind mocks sarcastically.  _ It's love, you great, big idiot. On your shit again, I see.  _

 

Jace very firmly calls his mind an asshole. 

 

He doesn't really… do anything about it. He lets himself get used to the reality of it, adjusts to how vast it goes, and more often than not, he questions it. Not because Simon isn't worth loving, but because he doesn't know if it's just one of those things that comes about from being so attached to a person. 

 

But then, one morning in a diner, a pretty waitress makes a comment about Simon's shirt - which incidentally has a Superman emblem on it - and whatever she says seems to offend his sensibilities, because he dramatically clutches his chest and spends the better part of breakfast explaining why Superman is better than Batman in every way, outside of his attempts at disguise. It's all very dorky, yet Jace watches him and is so,  _ so  _ endeared that he can't do anything but think  _ well, shit.  _

 

So, that's that on _that._  

 

They travel, they stop at hotels, and Jace comes to terms with the fact that he's sickeningly in love with Simon. Which, that's not  _ at all  _ what this trip is supposed to be about. The only reason he doesn't have a full-blown panic attack is because he's still not entirely sure what it all  _ means.  _

 

He's not the type of guy who thinks in terms of sexuality. He can't be, not with a parabatai who's gay and dating a bisexual ex-Warlock. He'd always joked that he was too beautiful to deny people just because of their gender; he'd only been half joking. 

 

It's not that he doesn't  _ notice  _ guys; he does, actually. Magnus, for example, is very attractive in a flashy, boisterous way that - if he weren't basically Jace's brother-in-law and Alec wasn't with him - he'd find enticing. He'd never pursue it, of course, because despite looks, Magnus truly  _ isn't  _ his type. There are others, some Shadowhunters, some seelies - Jace had almost had an encounter with Meliorn before he'd realized that Izzy had beaten him to it - and, on one memorable occasion, there had been a vampire. All in all, Jace isn't averse to men, not sexually, but he's never actually  _ done  _ anything with a man; he's certainly never fallen in love with one. 

 

It's all very problematic. 

 

Then, there is the issue that is Clary. He's sure that she expects them to reconcile romantically, which is going to be a  _ huge  _ problem when she finds out he's head over heels for her best friend. That's not counting the pain that will come from having to explain that falling out of love with her hadn't even been his choice. They're the epitome of  _ almost, but not quite  _ and the poster children for missed opportunities. 

 

So, Jace is fairly sure that the trip has caused more problems than it has helped solve. Which, he knows that isn't the case; trip or not, he'd still be in love with Simon, still have the Clary issue, and still be a right mess about it all. But it does help to have something to blame it on. 

 

Just as the week comes to a close, they retire early in the afternoon at a hotel to get some sleep they need to catch up on. Simon comes out of the bathroom, smiling wide with his fangs dropped, and he shows Jace the process of brushing his fangs and flossing between them because  _ I have to take care of them too, Jace, stop laughing, asshole.  _

 

It's in that moment that Jace has his freak-out. Because Simon has toothpaste around his mouth and is talking weirdly around the floss; because Simon is so fucking  _ stupid,  _ but so endlessly adorable; because Simon is cracking up and smiling and looking radiant and like everything Jace has ever wanted. So, of course, his heartbeat thunders in his chest abruptly, making Simon suddenly concerned, and Jace books it out of the room with his fingers fumbling over the numbers on his phone. 

 

Thank the Angel it's midday. 

 

Charles answers with a surprised, "Hello?" 

 

"You gave me your personal number in case of emergencies and I'm having a  _ crisis,"  _ Jace blurts out, nearly wheezing. 

 

"Jace, hello," Charles greets in a chipper voice that does nothing to soothe Jace's frayed nerves. "So, what's the emergency?" 

 

"I'm in love with a guy," Jace barks out, nearly choking on the words. "And not just  _ any  _ guy, Charles, but  _ the  _ guy. The one who- the  _ one,  _ okay? He's my- we're really close after losing- after going through things together. I mean, we  _ didn't  _ like each other, but I can't really remember that, and he's the one who helped me get- who helped me keep on going when I didn't  _ want  _ to. We kind of- well, we clung to each other and we're, I don't know, close. But he's my  _ friend;  _ I can't be in love with him!" 

 

"Ah," Charles says delicately, "okay, one moment." 

 

Jace takes a deep breath and listens to Charles mumble something in the background, something about a client and yes, he knows it's his day off, but dear, the client needs him. It takes Jace a second to realize that it's Charles' day off and he's probably talking to his spouse. Then, when a man replies in a rumbling tone of amusement, Jace blinks rapidly as his brain automatically supplies  _ he has a husband.  _

 

Maybe not the best person to be going to about his sexuality crisis, Jace realizes. But then again, it's not so much that as it is a  _ 'fuck, I'm in love with Simon fucking Lewis and that needs to stop immediately'  _ crisis. Whatever, he pays this man for a reason. 

 

"So, is this a sexuality crisis?" 

 

Jace hates how on the nose Charles can be at certain times. He groans. "No, no, it's- I swear it's not that. I'm- what is it? I like both, sexually at least. But I've never been in love with a guy and  _ can't  _ be in love with this one. Hell, I've only ever been in love once with Clary, who is - surprise,  _ fucking  _ surprise - not actually dead after all. Long story, she ended up, uh, missing, and we'd all thought she died, but she's back. And guess what, Charles?  _ Guess what?  _ Worst part, she still thinks we're- that I love her, and I don't know how to tell her I don't. Oh wait, no, I forgot that this next little part is much worse! The guy? The one, you know; he just happens to be her  _ best fucking friend!"  _

 

There's a beat of silence, then Charles blows out a long breath and mutters, "Wow." 

 

"I know," Jace agrees weakly. 

 

"Okay, hold on, I'm getting a pen." There's some rustling through the phone; Jace spends the time breathing slow and even. Charles hums quietly, the rustling stopping with the click of a pen. "Okay, let me make sure I've got all this right. You're bisexual. Clary, who you  _ used  _ to be in love with, is not, in fact, dead after all. She is under the impression that you two will rekindle the romance. However, you have fallen in love with a guy, who, as it happens, is her best friend. Correct?" 

 

Quietly, from the background, that deep voice from earlier rumbles, "Woah, what the fuck?" 

 

Charles tsks. "Marcus, get  _ out  _ of my office! I've already told you too many times; I'm  _ working."  _

 

The voice belonging to Marcus cracks around a short laugh. "Yes, dear," he says, then there's a small pause. "Maybe _I_ should become a therapist. That sounds like a wild fucking ride. Give the dude my deepest sympathies, seriously." 

 

"Marcus!" Charles bellows. 

 

"Sorry, babe," Marcus says, voice drifting off. 

 

There's the sound of a door clicking shut, then Charles sighs and says, "Sorry about that, Jace. I assure you he knows nothing about you outside of that, certainly not your name. Patient confidentiality and all that." 

 

Jace just releases a quiet moan. "I don't  _ care  _ about that, Charles! He's right; this  _ is  _ a wild fucking ride, and I desperately want to get off of it.  _ Help me."  _

 

"Okay, so let's go through it," Charles murmurs gently, suddenly all business. "Clary is back. Tell me what you're feeling on that." 

 

"I- I had a panic attack. She just- she showed back up and I wasn't expecting it, and I just- I lost it a little. I mean, I'm happy about it, but I had to leave. The guy, he went with me, even though his best friend just basically came back to life. I miss her, I know that. I want to talk to her. I just- I don't know  _ how.  _ And I don't know what to say about- about not being in love with her anymore." 

 

"I'm sure the news came as a shock. It's perfectly normal to react as you did and needing space is nothing to be ashamed of. Wanting to be close to her again, even not in a romantic sense, is completely valid, and I suggest you attempt to do so. Maybe start small, just text her or call. You're out of town, so it won't put the pressure of feeling like you  _ have  _ to be around her just yet. As for the romantic situation, what do you think you should do?" 

 

"I don't  _ know,  _ Charles," Jace grits out, shoving a hand through his hair. "That's why I called you!" 

 

"I help you help yourself, Jace. I counsel, I guide, and I give suggestions. But it is you, and only you, who can make the final decision. So, I'll ask you again, what do you think you should do?" 

 

"I can't avoid the fact that I don't love her like that anymore. She's- well, she's headstrong; she'll notice. I'm going to have to- to  _ tell  _ her." 

 

"It seems so," Charles says casually. "Do me a favor. Think about Clary, think about her as a  _ person.  _ Do you think that she'd be hurt by the news?" 

 

"I mean, most likely. Who wouldn't be?" 

 

"Mhm. Do you think she'd be angry?" 

 

"If I tell her about the guy-" 

 

"Forget the guy for a moment. Remove him from the equation entirely." 

 

"I'm  _ trying  _ to!" Jace explodes, pacing away to head towards the stairs that would lead him from the top floor, restless and needing to be in motion. 

 

"Jace," Charles insists, voice stern and serious, "take the guy out of the equation. Do you think she'd be angry with you?" 

 

"I- I think she would, at first. But she's not- she wouldn't  _ stay  _ angry at me." 

 

"Okay. Do you think she'd hate you?" 

 

Jace jerks to a halt, blinking rapidly. "I really hope she wouldn't. No, she- she's not like that. She'd be pissed that I'm even considering she would. No, she wouldn't hate me." 

 

Charles hums a small, pleased sound. "So, at worst, she'll be hurt by the news. But, as you've proved to yourself, people can heal, given the time and the chance. She might even be angry, possibly, but you believe it won't last too long. And she won't hate you for it. That's all at  _ worst.  _ So, at best…"

 

"Right," Jace croaks. "Okay. Yeah, that's- yeah." 

 

"Now, let's add the guy back into the equation." 

 

"Let's not." 

 

"And why not?" Charles asks lightly. 

 

"Because I have all plans to avoid this specific issue for as long as possible," Jace tells him firmly, slowly picking up his pacing again. "Shit, I might even keep it to myself  _ forever.  _ No one has to know." 

 

"I… do not recommend that," Charles replies slowly, carefully. He clears his throat. "Why hold a ticking time bomb, leaving it to blow up in your face, and possible other's faces, when you can simply dismantle the bomb entirely?" 

 

"Don't warp metaphors to my situation to make things make sense when they  _ don't."  _

 

"I'm not. Let's take Clary out of the equation this time. Tell me about this guy. You say he's the first guy you've ever felt anything romantically for, yes? But you've been with men otherwise?" 

 

"I haven't been with  _ any  _ men, but I've- well, I  _ notice  _ them. Uh, sexually, I mean." 

 

"I see. That's quite alright, Jace, perfectly normal. Talk to me about your relationship with him." 

 

"We started out a little… hostile towards each other. This only adds another layer of absolute  _ shit  _ to the situation, but we had problems in the beginning because we both wanted the same girl. Yeah, you guessed it; that girl was Clary." 

 

Charles makes a weak sound. "Ah," he says again, just as delicately, "well, that's- that's okay. I'm assuming you two… worked things out?" 

 

"You could say that." Jace snorts, rolling his eyes. "He's very, um, accident prone? Yeah. So, I spent a lot of time keeping him from getting hurt, mostly because he was Clary's best friend. But I always knew he was strong; I respected him, even back then, though it was relunctant as fuck." 

 

"So, you liked him, even if you hid it?" 

 

"Sort of. He's kind of… dorky? He talks a lot, never really shuts up, and he's loyal to a fault. It's so  _ stupid  _ because he's not even- he's just  _ him,  _ but it's like- fuck, it's like he's the sun or something. He's just…  _ pure.  _ But also not? He's good, really good, but he's been through a lot of shit, none of which he deserved. He's optimistic and bright and funny and dumb and I  _ hate  _ him so much." 

 

"Yes, that sounds about right for love. When did you two go from having issues to being so close?" 

 

"Well, things got easier over time. I started caring about him because of  _ him  _ and not just Clary. He and Clary started dating at one point, and he got hurt. I… took care of him, but that was all me. And before that, when Clary and I stopped… flirting, there was a reason. I found out that reason was fake, but I didn't do anything about it, didn't tell her because they were happy together. Then, she found out anyway and it came out she still had feelings for me, so they broke it off. Me and Clary got back together, she and him stayed friends, and he started dating someone else. We weren't even really huge friends then, but we weren't…  _ not  _ friends either." 

 

Charles releases another deep breath. "Okay, hold on, I'm making a note." There's a pause. "Alright, so when did you two become so close?" 

 

"When Clary died. We both felt… at fault. He thought it was his fault she went missing; I thought it was mine. I was really messed up, couldn't be around my family, and he was just as fucked in the head. So, I guess we just… healed together? He- he helped me through a lot. He got me through my first panic attack. He woke me up when I was having nightmares. He made sure I ate. It got a little codependent; I freaked out if he wasn't in my line of sight and he- he liked taking care of me because he felt like a fuck up. We got better over time, not as clingy, but we still- we pretty much do everything together. He's the one who convinced me to start going to therapy, did you know?" 

 

"He sounds like a very good person. To have someone be such a foundation of support is truly a gift. To cling to one another through a time of distress is instinctual, and as long as that has softened into something healthier as you've both healed, it's perfectly okay." 

 

"I didn't realize I'd fallen for him until after Clary came back. When I had my panic attack, he escorted me out and helped me through it, even though I  _ know  _ he wanted to spend time with her. And then, when I needed to get away, he insisted on coming with because we'd been there for each other through the last rough spots, and according to him, we will continue to do that. But the thing  _ is,  _ I still didn't notice until- until I was in way too deep. Charles, we hold  _ hands  _ for fucks sake; I mean, I'm pretty sure it's platonic, but come  _ on!  _ I don't hold hands, that's not me, but I just- I  _ did,  _ and I liked it!" 

 

"Okay. Okay, so - and be honest - what do you want to do about that?" 

 

Jace blinks. "Um, avoid it forever and hope it goes away at some point?" 

 

"That's not the truth, you know that. When you think about this guy, what do you  _ want?"  _ Charles presses.

 

Jace takes a long time to answer, isn't sure how to explain exactly what he wants. It scrapes his way out of him in one simple sentence. "I want everything." 

 

"Does that frighten you?" 

 

"Yes. How did you know?" 

 

Charles hums in consideration. "The falcon story. You're very complex, Jace, but many things can be traced back to that one traumatic experience. This  _ is  _ a crisis for you, not because of the many entwined hardships of the situation, but because you were taught from a very young age that wanting things ended in ruin." 

 

Jace thinks about Simon saying  _ "You like to want things, even if you never get them,"  _ and he thinks about " _ To love is to destroy,"  _ and he realizes that all the shit Lilith did to him had been the final straw, but he has long been fucked up. 

 

Jace stumbles over to the van and presses his back to the cold metal, one hand holding the phone to his ear, the other nearly shoved into his mouth to stop him from sobbing. Maybe Charles knows, maybe he hears it, or maybe he's just that good of a therapist that he knows what silence sounds like filled with tears; whatever it is, he doesn't say anything, just goes quiet and waits. Jace has to take a few moments to pull himself together. 

 

Once he's swiped the tears and taken a deep, shaky breath, Jace croaks, "I don't know what to do." 

 

"The only way you'll find out is if you figure out whether you're willing to let yourself want him fully, to take that leap into uncharted territory, and whether you're willing to risk heartbreak - which, while it seems to be, is not ruin in the least." 

 

"So, what, I'm just supposed to  _ tell  _ him?" 

 

"Say you do, what's the worst that could happen?" 

 

"He could - oh, I don't know - turn me down, kick me out, and never speak to me again." 

 

"Would he do that?" Charles asks doubtfully. 

 

"No," Jace admits in a grumble. "If it isn't the same for him, he'd just tell me he was flattered and then awkwardly explain that it isn't like that for him. I'd be embarrassed, but we'd still- we'd stay friends." 

 

"Mhm." Charles sounds distinctly smug. "So, if  _ that's  _ the worst that can happen, what's the best?" 

 

"Things involving less clothes and him  _ finally  _ shutting up," Jace says, lips quirking up in a smirk, tone leaving no room for doubt as to what he means. 

 

Charles chuckles. "You young people and your one track minds. But yes, that too, I suppose. So, if that's the best, why not tell him?" 

 

"Because I'm a mess. Because I need him sometimes. Because I look at him and see my dead falcon. Because I'm a disaster. The list goes on." 

 

"Because you're scared." 

 

"Just cut me at the knees next time," Jace mutters dryly, huffing. "Yeah, that also, but thanks for pointing it out. How would I even- how does anyone just  _ say  _ that? Oh hey, by the way, I'm totally in love with you, is that cool?" 

 

Charles coughs, but it sounds suspiciously like a snort of amusement. "Ah, well, that's one way to do it. Perhaps you could simply tell him the truth." 

 

"I mean, sure, but what about the whole Clary issue? Is it time to add her back into the equation yet? Because, honestly, this whole  _ telling the guy I'm in love with that I'm in love with him _ thing is all very hypothetical and impossible without  _ that  _ being solved. So, what's that all about? I'm in love with her best friend while she's in love with me." 

 

"Yes, that is also something to talk about." 

 

"He'll take her side, of course." 

 

"There aren't sides, Jace, and you're automatically assuming that he does not return your affections." 

 

Jace groans and tips his head back, knocking it against the van with a huff. "Can we do the best case, worse case scenario thing again?" 

 

"Very well. First, tell me, in this scenario we're painting, are you telling Clary that you're not in love with her, then telling the guy you're in love with him,  _ then  _ telling Clary you're in love with him. If you were to do it, how would you go about doing so?" 

 

"Shouldn't I tell Clary first?" 

 

"You don't  _ have  _ to tell her what you feel for someone else, Jace. No one is entitled to that information, but-" 

 

"Great! So, no one has to know, fantastic!" 

 

_ "-but  _ it would be wise to inform her so, in this entire scenario, of course. So, how would you do it?" 

 

"Probably like you said. Tell Clary about my lack of feelings. Then tell the guy. If he doesn't reciprocate, I can just never tell her and have to deal with it. And if he  _ does  _ reciprocate, we could tell her together, that way I'm not doing it alone." 

 

"That's a wise choice," Charles comments, sounding genuinely impressed. "So, let's say that he does reciprocate, right? Will you wait to tell her until she's in a better spot about the first news? Will you and the guy wait and date in secret?" 

 

"Oh," Jace says, feeling stupid. "That's- okay, that does sound like a dumb plan. Okay, what if I told  _ him  _ first, then - if he feels the same - we tell her both news at once?" 

 

"Do you think that's kinder?" 

 

"I mean… knowing her and speaking from experience of my own, I kinda do. When me and her realized we couldn't be together before, it had been fucking terrible. Then, to see her with him later… it was even worse. Besides, she wouldn't want us to keep anything from her. He wouldn't want to either. I mean, neither do I, but still." 

 

"Alright," Charles says simply, "that holds up. So, best and worst cases. What's the worst possible way she could react to the news?" 

 

"She could be angry, really angry. Not forever, but long enough that- that me and him might not make it because we- we love her, and we wouldn't want to hurt her. She could be hurt; I'm talking tears, wanting distance, refusing to talk. That would fuck with him so  _ much."  _

 

"And how could you combat such an outcome?" 

 

"Fuck if I know." Jace heaves a sigh, dropping his chin to his chest. "No, okay, I guess we could explain everything. We could apologize, try to stay a team through the hard points, give her space but also be there for her." 

 

"Do you think that would work?" 

 

"I'm not sure." 

 

"Would you be okay if it didn't?" 

 

"No. Yes. No. I don't know." 

 

"Alright, let's move on." Charles makes a small noise and there's the sound of his pen clicking again. "Tell me what the best case scenario would be." 

 

"She'd understand." 

 

"That's it?" 

 

Jace clears his throat. "The footnotes version, I guess. I mean, the idea of me and this guy is… so out there; it's going to be hard to understand for  _ anyone.  _ But she loves us both, so maybe she'd see why I- why I love him too. And it goes without saying that she'd be hurt and angry, but best case on that, she'd move on quick and wish us the best." 

 

"And in this scenario, does the best case outweigh the risk of the worst case happening?" 

 

"I'm not sure." 

 

"Well," Charles says, voice soothing and gentle, "it seems that you have a lot to think about." 

 

"Fuck," Jace grouses, "looks like I do." 

 

"But Jace, I must tell you… all of these best and worst case scenarios are dependent upon perspective and information you may not be privy to. One thing I  _ can  _ guarantee you is that what you believe will happen won't, not to the exact detail. Keep that in mind." 

 

"Great. Thanks so much for that, Charles; you really know how to help a guy out." 

 

"Just doing my job," Charles quips, amused. 

 

And yeah, Jace guesses that's exactly what he's done. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jace. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I literally love them so freaking much!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey-oh! I don't think there are any warnings for this chapter, actually. Which... wild, I know. Just some soft bois. 
> 
> Enjoy!

So, it goes like this: 

 

They've started their way back up to New York, taking the long way around, and they've spent the better half of the second week doing more or less things Jace wants to do, or things Simon won't admit to wanting to do. It's relaxing, freeing even, and they find themselves letting go of a lot of stress, just like they had last time. 

 

They stop at a semi-normal hotel off the highway in the middle of the night and stumble to their room. Forgoing showers entirely, they both faceplant their bed and drift off into sleep. Because the universe hates Jace, he wakes up wrapped around Simon like a particular set of clingy vines. And since the universe loves a good taunting laugh, Simon is,  _ of course,  _ fully awake. 

 

"Morning," Simon says in a decidedly pleased fashion, his eyes bright with humor. "Woke up with extra appendages this morning. Who knew you were a closet cuddler?" 

 

"I kind of, like  _ really  _ hate you," Jace mutters gruffly, extracting himself and hiding his blush by rolling off the bed and going to use the shower. Simon's cackling laughter can be heard over the water turning on and Jace pretends not to see his own answering smile in the mirror. 

 

After, when they've both had their showers but are lingering in bed because they don't really have any plans for the day and they're feeling a little lazy, it happens. 

 

It starts with Simon saying, "So, guess who called me this morning?" 

 

"Who?" Jace asks, the words muffled by the pillow he's currently pressing his face into. 

 

"Jordan," Simon tells him in an overly casual tone. 

 

Jace immediately tenses, his head popping up to stare at Simon. "What did he want?" he asks sharply, eyeing Simon closely. 

 

"He was a little upset that I just up and left again without letting him know." 

 

"What's it to him?" 

 

"Well, he  _ is  _ like my weird supernatural guardian," Simon mutters, wrinkling his nose. "We came to an agreement. Well, Maia told Jordan what he was going to do, so that's what he's doing." 

 

"And what's that?" 

 

"He keeps an eye on me, but from a distance. He works on figuring out about the mark on my head, but doesn't bother me. He pays for me to live in the apartment, but stays somewhere else. And since he feels guilty about what he did to Maia, that's exactly what he does." 

 

Jace grunts, turning on his side to regard Simon with a frown. "So, he was being pissy because you left again? Want me to talk to him?" 

 

Simon snorts and shoots him a fond look, rolling his eyes. "I thought you were on his side?" 

 

"I wasn't on anyone's side; I just thought it would be stupid to refuse help if someone was offering. But that was  _ before  _ he turned out to be a complete and total dick - not only to you but also Maia, who, despite popular belief, I actually like." 

 

"I'm telling her you said that." 

 

"Don't you dare." 

 

"Oh no, I'm  _ definitely  _ telling her about this. Look at you, all protective and stuff. Our hero." 

 

Jace rolls his eyes and reaches out to haphazardly shove at Simon's shoulder. "Shut up. So, he called and fussed you out?" 

 

"Mm, well… he  _ tried  _ to fuss me out," Simon says with a vague sense of pride, lips twitching up in blatant amusement. "You're gonna love this. So, I told him that I had a whole pack of Shadowhunters who would, if I deemed it necessary, totally kick his ass, and that's not including Maia and Luke. Some of his wind left his sails then, but he pressed on - brave, little soldier that he is. When he kept on, I told him that you'd probably kick his ass on principle alone.  _ He  _ said, and I quote,  _ "I'm not scared of your Shadowhunter boyfriend, Simon,"  _ to which I replied that he very well should be, because while I'd never do it on my own, I'd exploit the power of my unfortunate blemish to - and you're going to love this part - help you kick his ass." 

 

There's a lot to unpack there, but Jace fixates on one thing immediately. "So, I'm your boyfriend now?" 

 

"Yeah, haven't you heard?" Simon rolls his eyes and snorts. "Maia is nearly one hundred percent sure that we're having sex and not telling anyone." 

 

"Okay, wait, let me say this other thing first. If you want, I really  _ will  _ make Jordan eat dirt, just say the word." Jace holds up a finger when Simon opens his mouth to say something else. "Also, I  _ do  _ love the fact that you threatened someone with me and my family; it is very gratifying. Now, for the last thing, you're telling me that Maia just assumes we're having sex?" 

 

Simon hums and bobs his head. "Yes, she is very firm in her belief. It does not help that I've said for verbatim, that night on that awkward double date we had, that I figured it was only a matter of time before I slept with you myself. Which, I only said that because Maia had slept with you and I told her I figured that everyone slept with you at some point and would probably join that club. A joke, of course, but she apparently took me at face value."

 

"Huh," Jace grunts, his eyebrows drawing together as he processecs that. "And she just- she believes it?" 

 

"I let her," Simon replies easily, shrugging. 

 

Jace blinks. "Why?" 

 

"It's easier, I guess." Simon clears his throat, suddenly fiddling with his fingers and very obviously feeling awkward. "She wouldn't- it would be harder for us if she thought I hadn't moved on. She talks about Bat to me a lot, treats me like we never even had a stutter, and I- I like that. I don't want that to go away, so I just… let her believe I moved on with you." 

 

"Oh. Well, that's- it's okay. I'm glad you told me though; I'm going to fuck with her  _ so hard  _ the next time I see her. Why, yes, Maia, I totally just had Simon's dick in my mouth; think about that next time you steal my drink and put your lips on my straw." Jace grins when Simon's head jerks around to stare at him with wide eyes. "What? I know how to have  _ fun,  _ Simon." 

 

"First of all, she'd just tell you that she  _ also  _ has had my dick in her mouth," Simon retorts, blinking rapidly. "Second of all, I figured you'd be a lot angrier than you are." 

 

"Why would I be angry?" Jace murmurs. 

 

"I don't know, maybe because you're straight and I'm letting someone believe otherwise?" 

 

"Okay, I'm going to tell you the same exact thing I told Izzy when she caught me flirting with a guy when I was nineteen. Have you  _ seen  _ me? It would probably be a punishable offense to deny people all of this just because of their gender. I'm a literal gift; men deserve a chance too, you know." 

 

Simon's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open as he shoots up in the bed. "No way, you're shitting me. Jace whatever-your-last-name-is-at-this-point isn't a straight guy? Where the  _ fuck  _ have I been?" 

 

"Missing out, apparently," Jace says, a knee-jerk reaction that demands to be followed with an eyebrow waggle. Simon just stares at him. "Yes, Simon, I'm not a straight guy. What's the big deal? Alec's gay, Magnus is bisexual, Izzy doesn't really do labels but has been with girls." 

 

Simon flops back into the pillows with a huff and flaps a hand at him. "No, I'm not- it isn't a big deal like  _ that.  _ I'm pansexual, so it's not like I'm against it or anything. Totally support your endeavors. It's just… it surprised me is all." 

 

"Like I said, it would be a crime to deny anyone this pretty face," Jace replies with an easy smile. 

 

"Your ego needs a body of its own; it's going to just get up and walk away one day, I swear." 

 

"It's called confidence. You should find some; it would do wonders for you." 

 

"You could do to be more humble. And I'm- well, I have  _ some  _ confidence." Simon heaves a sigh, turning his head to stare up at the ceiling. "It's just hard to feel confident when you're always second best." 

 

"It's not your fault that other people are stupid and blind," Jace snaps, annoyance flaring in him without much warning. "Yes, that includes Clary and Maia. If you were  _ mine, _ I'd never let you go." 

 

Almost as soon as the words come out, Jace wants to slurp them back up and swallow them down. But they exist out there now, treading a line that is slowly getting thinner and thinner. Jace sees the moment that Simon fully processes those words; his head snaps over yet again, lips parted in surprise, eyes wide, and he looks a little stunned. Embarrassment curdles hot and uncomfortable in Jace's chest and he clears his throat, waving a hand as if to bat the words away. 

 

Simon is not having it. "No," he blurts, reaching out to grab Jace's hand and tug it down, "what did you just say? Jace, say that again." 

 

"It's- I was just- it's not like that."  _ It is.  _ Jace tries to shove his face back into the pillow, contemplating death on a very serious level, but Simon's eyes pin him in place. "I'm just  _ saying,  _ alright? Don't make it a thing. You're a catch, or whatever." 

 

"Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy  _ shit."  _ Simon's eyes widen to a nearly comical size, a small delirious laugh falling past his parted lips. "You- Jace, you actually- no  _ way.  _ There's no way you've- but you  _ did.  _ Oh my-  _ holy shit!"  _

 

Jace is going to die. No, really. He's going to sink into this stupid, uncomfortable hotel bed and never resurface. Simon  _ knows.  _ Jace knows he knows. It doesn't exactly take a genius to figure it out, and while Simon is a complete idiot, he's not plain stupid. There's also the fact that Simon knows Jace better than, well…  _ everyone  _ probably, except Alec, and he can just see it, can read it on Jace's face like reading a book. 

 

It's this  _ thing,  _ right? Jace just does this, just lands himself into these situations where he makes everything worse for himself. He can't just be friends with Simon,  _ oh no,  _ he has to love him. Because that's what he does; he wants things he can't really have. He wants and wants and  _ wants,  _ which, as always, ends in ruin - just like with Clary, just like with his falcon. 

 

"Don't." The word cracks on its way out, making two syllables where there's only supposed to be one, and Jace just wants to  _ die.  _ He starts to pull away, to launch himself off the bed and maybe into the sun, but Simon grips his hand and halts him. 

 

"Since when?" Simon asks, looking a little dazed, leaning forward to stare at him with wide, curious eyes. He doesn't blink, just  _ stares.  _

 

"I don't know," Jace croaks, shrugging one shoulder, feeling his cheeks burn. "I didn't even know until… recently. It's not- it doesn't have to be a thing." 

 

Simon's eyebrows twitch like they're trying to figure out how to properly react. "I'm gonna- there's something I'm gonna do, so just- if you don't like it, just shove me away, okay?" 

 

Jace is suddenly very  _ worried.  _ Because here's the thing, this is all moderately tolerable in theory. Loving Simon and  _ getting  _ Simon are two very different things on two very different levels; one keeps him at a certain point, the other takes him past that point -  _ way  _ past, like to the point of no return. So, when Simon's eyes flick to his lips pointedly, Jace goes very still and feels the first tendrils of concern whip through him. 

 

Despite his internal panic, he does absolutely nothing besides stare right at Simon, heart racing way too fast in his chest - he knows Simon can hear it, knows it must be thundering in his ears. Jace waits, holding his breath, mind too scrambled to figure out what the  _ fuck  _ he's supposed to be saying or doing in reaction. 

 

Then, Simon fumbles forward, lifting himself up off his pillow and pushing forward. Just as easy as that, Jace is being kissed. It's actually a bit awkward, with noses bumping and the worst angle possible, and Jace just  _ knows  _ he's got it bad if he's willing to put up with a shitty kisser. Except, Simon pulls back with a small frown and a huff, then promptly adjusts himself better. He drops Jace's hand, scoots up to curl his torso, and reaches up to push his fingers into Jace's hair. He tries again. 

 

This time, it is  _ not  _ shitty at all. 

 

This angle is much,  _ much  _ better. Simon is leaning over him, head tilted just so, his fingers lightly pressing through his hair and sliding over the side of his face to cup his jaw. It's just a simple kiss, just two mouths pressing together, and Jace  _ still  _ feels like he's breaking apart from the contact. He inhales sharply and lifts one hand to grip Simon's shoulder, heart picking up speed in his chest even _ more.  _

 

Simon abruptly pulls away, blinking rapidly; Jace immediately wants him to come back. He doesn't like the silence that stretches between them, definitely doesn't enjoy the way he can  _ feel  _ his face contorting with emotion - he isn't a fool, so he knows that Simon can see it too. 

 

"Simon," Jace starts. 

 

Simon just shakes his head, dragging his thumb over Jace's chin and moving it to press into his lips; Jace automatically parts his lips, befuddled brain fully expecting Simon to just press his thumb inside his mouth. He's not against that exactly. It would probably break the tender moment, give his poor heart a chance to recuperate, and save him from the depth of his own feelings. It would also succeed in hiking up the heat, maybe get them to doing  _ something  _ besides gazing at each other. Jace is fully on board with the sex idea; he knows how that works, knows what to expect from that - it doesn't have to  _ mean  _ anything, it never does. But this, the way Simon's looking at him, gently pressing the pad of his thumb to Jace's lips… it feels like it could mean something, like maybe it already does. 

 

"I'm not going to take a bite out of you, Jace," Simon says softly, still doing that unnerving  _ peering  _ thing he's got going on. "And I don't mean in the vampire way, even if it is in that way too; I mean in the sense that you're not a piece of meat that I'm just going to discard. You're not that, you'll never be that." 

 

Jace makes an involuntarily small sound in the back of his throat, the impact of the sincerity in Simon's tone like a combat boot straight to the chest. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know if he  _ can  _ say anything; his mind is a mess of unintelligible thoughts that consist of vague confused sounds. Simon quirks a small smile, like maybe he's fully aware of Jace's mental state, and he drags his thumb along his lip, eyes watching with rapt attention as the lip catches and chases his finger. 

 

Without much preamble, Simon leans back down and replaces his finger with his tongue, licking his way into Jace's mouth like he's trying to sip liquid gold from the crevice of his lips. As if he doesn't know how to do anything else, and he probably doesn't at this point, Jace opens up and lets Simon in with all the thoughts in his mind going silent. 

 

They kiss languid and slow, like the careful beat of bird wings, and Jace is breathless with how fucking  _ gentle  _ Simon is being. And as forgiving as this assault is, it still manages to break Jace apart without ever having to use force; it's more efficient than any form of torture could ever dream to be. Right now, he's peeled away, laid open bare for the world to see, but only Simon is there to see it - and anyway, he's got his eyes closed, just like Jace, and it's perfectly fine, really. Except, Jace is falling in  _ deep,  _ just with this, and it's  _ supposed  _ to be terrifying. Instead, it feels like one of the easiest things he's ever done. 

 

It changes over time, grows lighter, not that it was exceptionally heavy to begin with. They kiss lazily, no rush. Settle back into the pillows and touch each other's faces with careful strokes, like they're caressing something worth cherishing. Break apart to breathe a little, short pecks punctuating each second they're not pressing into each other, then dive right back in. It's serious, but it's peaceful, and Jace knows he's never felt this before, this- this ardent reverence. 

 

He's always thought that he's wanted love, the kind that lights a fire within you, the kind that heats your skin, the kind that washes you away with its ferocity, but he realizes now how wrong he is. Maybe that's why it all ended in ruin; he's been wanting the wrong thing this whole time. This is something else entirely; it puts out the fires that burn him up, kindling them to warm embers; it soothes across his skin like silk, a refreshing breeze in the midst of flames; it grounds him with sensitive contentment, making him feel safe in such a way he has never been able to experience before. 

 

Jace could do this forever; he wants to. 

 

As it stands, they stop without much fanfare. Simon simply breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Jace's, releasing a soft sigh that Jace can feel against his lips. They'll have to talk about it, Jace knows that, but right now… he just feels settled. He keeps his eyes closed, keeps each hand on either side of Simon's neck, keeps right on existing in this moment. He's relaxed and calm, mind not capable of fathoming  _ anything  _ being wrong in this moment, and everything feels quiet in the best way. 

 

Jace doesn't mean to, but he drifts off in it. He loses himself. He thinks - but isn't sure - that lips press briefly to his, then lift away to smooth a kiss to his forehead, but by that point, Jace can't be sure it isn't all a dream. He hopes it's not, so he smiles at the possibility that it isn't - he can't be sure if it happens at all, if his smile is even real, but for the first time in a very long time, Jace doesn't mind not knowing. 

 

(Unbeknownst to him, his smile is very real. Simon sees it and returns it with one of his own.)

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jace wakes up to a nose against the back of his neck, an arm slung over his waist, and cold toes pressed between his ankles. 

 

It takes him just under a second to realize that it's Simon, that they kissed the night before, and that he's being  _ spooned.  _ It takes him nearly a minute for him to evaluate how he feels about all of that. 

 

All in all, he doesn't hate it. 

 

It's the early corners of the morning; there's just the slightest dash of orange peering through the gap of the long blinds over the sliding door to the balcony of the hotel room. They fell asleep just a little before eight in the evening, so it makes sense that they're awake before the sun's first yawn. The birds are chirping outside the glass, a muffled song that drapes the wake-up process in peace. Jace almost doesn't want to move, doesn't want to shatter the ease of this morning. 

 

Then, Simon says, "Hey," and it's so quiet, so  _ soft,  _ that Jace suddenly wants nothing more than to turn over and look at him, even if it does break the moment. He refrains - just barely - and keeps blinking slow, staring out that small space between the blinds. His heart hasn't even started racing yet, so he's willing to take his wins. 

 

"Hey," Jace replies casually. 

 

Simon is quiet for a long moment, relaxed where he's pressed against Jace, his breathing even. His nose slowly starts brushing the back of Jace's neck, just a short glide back and forth like he's doing it unconsciously. It tickles a little, but it's nice, so Jace doesn't do anything to stop it. 

 

Jace thinks that this is supposed to be grueling or, at the very least, awkward. They kissed last night - it was all very soft and careful, which Jace never is. By his calculations, Simon should be trying to get him out of his clothes at this point, going out of his mind with lust, or trying to backtrack and stumble over why it can't mean anything. Maybe even both, one right after the other. 

 

But it's not. Simon's not even stuttering or talking really fast; he's just  _ laying  _ there, calm and collected, casually touching Jace as if it's normal - it kinda  _ is,  _ but this is a little bit more than just holding hands, so it really isn't - and not seeming bothered at all. Jace would be worried about that, except this doesn't feel complicated at all, which has no business being as wonderful as it is. 

 

"Is this okay?" Simon asks, then clarifies what he's asking about by brushing his lips over the top knot in his spine. 

 

Jace considers it for about two seconds. "Yeah, it's okay, Simon." 

 

Simon hums and presses his lips against the small ball of bone yet again, featherlight but unmistakably  _ there.  _ Jace thinks that this will lead to more, that Simon will press his lips along the dip of his neck, start sucking marks - that'll be it, they'll be fucking in two seconds flat, that's how it  _ works.  _ But Simon just presses kiss after kiss to that one spot, sometimes brushing his lips there, sometimes adding a little pressure. 

 

They waste away the morning just like this - Jace looking outside through the dip in the blinds, Simon holding him and kissing the top of his spine. It's sickeningly tender and Jace hates it, except he does not at all. He sinks into it, calm and happy and waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

 

Simon's hands never stray, his lips don't either, and it's strangely comforting. 

 

It ends with Simon heaving a sigh and pressing a lingering kiss to that spot, then groaning as he pulls away, like he'd rather not move. Jace frowns a little without meaning to, flopping on his back to watch Simon get up and pad over to the little cooler they haul around with them.  _ Ah,  _ he thinks,  _ he needs his breakfast.  _ Jace can't help but be slightly amused (read: very soft) at the sight of Simon jamming a straw into the blood bag and quickly sucking it down, throat constricting as he tries to finish it in record time. 

 

"You don't have to watch," Simon mutters, wrinkling his nose. "I know it's disgusting." 

 

Maybe, once upon a time it  _ was _ , but it's not like that at all anymore, so Jace grudgingly admits, "Nothing you do is disgusting." 

 

Simon's lips lift up around the straw; he takes a couple more gulps. "You say that, but the act  _ really  _ is nasty," he replies around the straw. "But thanks for saying so." 

 

"I mean it," Jace insists. "You make everything-" He waves a hand and grimaces.  _ "-endearing."  _

 

"Oh? Do I?" Simon grins because he's a goofy idiot, slurping on the blood on purpose now. It should be annoying; it's really not. "If I'd known that kissing you would have made you a lot nicer, I would have done it the first day we met." 

 

Jace arches an eyebrow. "I would have shoved you away, then refused to talk about it,  _ then  _ fucked you against any available surface. Honestly, that would have made everything awkward for everyone."

 

"Aww," Simon says, "you had a crush on me." 

 

"I didn't," Jace denies immediately. "I just have eyes and you're attractive in that nerd-hot kind of way. I mean, it took me awhile to notice, but if you  _ had  _ kissed me, I wouldn't have had a choice but to notice. So, shut up." 

 

"Why does everyone keep saying I'm nerd-hot?" 

 

"Must be because it's true. Not a bad thing; it doesn't beat hot-hot, for example…  _ me,  _ but it's still good. You're the kinda guy someone wants to take home to meet their mom. I'm, uh,  _ not."  _

 

"I'd let you meet my mom," Simon replies, his voice going soft with sincerity. "I- I mean, if she was… still around, I would. She'd love you." 

 

Jace snorts. "No, she wouldn't." 

 

"Well, she'd be polite," Simon corrects, his smile turning sad around the edges. He takes a deep breath and finishes off his blood, then moves back over to the bed. He sits on his side, legs folded over each other with each elbow on his knees, hands resting under his chin. "So, can I do that more often? The kissing thing, I mean." 

 

"You can do whatever you want," Jace answers automatically, waggling his eyebrows on instinct alone, instantly regretting it. 

 

Simon frowns. It's just a downwards tick of his lips, but Jace can't possibly miss it. Along with regret, he has the sudden sensation of his stomach falling to his feet. It's an innuendo, Simon must know that, and if it displeases him… it means that Simon  _ doesn't  _ want to do more. 

 

There are very few things that Jace prides himself on without feeling like it's all a facade. His fighting used to be a thing he was proud of, but that was before he found out he had pure angel blood and his trainor had made him naturally faster and stronger via experimental injections because he was a full blown nutcase. Another thing is his sexual appeal, hand and hand with his sexual expertise. He's attractive; he knows this without a doubt. People want him, want to be with him at least  _ once,  _ even if it's just so that they can say they have. 

 

They eat him alive with their eyes, they reach out to touch like he's a trophy they can't wait to earn, and they can't help themselves. Jace is aware of all of this, has long come to terms with it, and fully uses it to his advantage. Simon doesn't seem to want that though, which means that Jace doesn't stand a fucking chance at all. 

 

Which - well, that's all he has to offer, so seriously, what the fuck? 

 

Simon purses his lips and pushes them from side to side, then sighs. "Can I ask you something?" 

 

"Yes," Jace replies hesitantly. 

 

"Have you ever, um, took things… slow?" 

 

"Like… sex-wise?" 

 

"Yeah, that."

 

"Once, with Clary. Or, I tried. She thought I didn't want her, but I was just- I didn't want it to end, so I was drawing it out. It ended anyway. I remember thinking I should have while I had the chance." 

 

"Okay." Simon hums, eyebrows furrowing. "So, you've always just had sex out of the gate?" 

 

"Simon, I haven't actually been in a relationship outside of Clary. All of my other encounters were casual, just flings." 

 

"Right. Were you taking it slow  _ because  _ that's what you thought you had to do, or-" 

 

"That, and I know sex can be the end of things. I was just trying to hold on for as long as possible," Jace admits with a frown. 

 

Simon reaches up and scrubs at his forehead, heaving a deep sigh. "I'm at a crossroads. This is a conundrum." 

 

"Is it?" Jace asks dryly, lips twitching when Simon sends him a flat look. "Alright, what's the issue?" 

 

"I'm stuck between wanting to have sex with you just to prove that it doesn't end there, at least not with me, and wanting to take it slow to show that sex isn't my ultimate goal. I meant it, what I said. You're  _ not  _ a piece of meat, you never will be." 

 

"Oh. That is… problematic." 

 

Simon rolls his eyes. "What do you want?" 

 

"Whatever you want." 

 

"No, don't- don't  _ do  _ that. Seriously, Jace, what do you  _ want?  _ It's your body, your desire, your choice." 

 

Jace opens his mouth to rattle off another joke that won't solve anything, but the sincerity in Simon's eyes stops him in his tracks. He swallows around an uninvited lump in his throat, chest suddenly feeling far too small for his lungs. He's never actually been  _ asked  _ what he wanted on the sex front, not so blatantly, and never with genuine options. 

 

He thinks about it, averting his eyes. He doesn't even know what they're  _ doing.  _ Are they in a relationship now? Is this just them being affectionate? How in the hell is he supposed to decide if he doesn't know what the fucking restrictions are?

 

Jace is about to ask, but as soon as his eyes flick up to land on Simon, everything clicks in his head. There's something open and patient on Simon's face, an earnest conviction that steals Jace's breath. He realizes then that there  _ aren't  _ restrictions, that Simon wants to do whatever works for them, that he isn't pushing for anything and demanding even less. It's that, more than anything, that helps him understand what he wants. 

 

"I want… normalcy." Jace takes a deep breath and scoots back against the pillows. "I want things to just unfold naturally, the way relationships are supposed to. I don't want to have sex quickly, but I don't want to stop if it feels right. I just want, for fucking once, for things to be simple." 

 

Simon smiles, his eyes dancing in delight. He nods and his chin moves with his hands. "Yeah, we can do that. Things that usually come with these situations in the normal sense is actually figuring out what you're doing and what you want. So, do you wanna date me, Jace?" 

 

Jace blinks. "Uh… yes?" 

 

"You sure?" Simon's eyebrows hike up. "You don't sound like you're sure." 

 

"No, no, I am. I just- no one's actually ever asked me that before. It's weird. I thought it would be a lot worse, if I'm honest." 

 

"I've got game." 

 

Jace snorts. "You do not." 

 

"Just enough," Simon chirps, obviously very pleased with himself. "So, you wanna date me. Cool, we're dating. That means we go on dates and are - as the kids say - official, which also means we have to update our facebook relationship status." 

 

"I only understood half of that," Jace tells him, watching Simon's smile and helplessly returning it. 

 

"I know, which is why it's so funny. You  _ are  _ an old man. Anyway, we're dating, which makes you my boyfriend,  _ but  _ that does not entitle me to shit." Simon lifts one shoulder in a half shrug. "The dreaded talking - not the sex talk, we'll gradually get to that, but the other stuff. How do you feel about PDA? Uh, public displays of affection." 

 

"I know what PDA is." Jace can't help but roll his eyes at this  _ idiot.  _ It's too fond, he knows, but he's trying anyway. "I mean, I don't care? Like I said, whatever feels right. I doubt it'll ever feel right to have me on the table in front of Maryse, so we're in the clear." 

 

"You're ridiculous," Simon announces, his laugh quiet as he shakes his head. "But that does bring us to the next question. Do you wanna tell people?" 

 

"Tell people we're, uh, dating?" 

 

"Yep." 

 

"I'm not ashamed of you, Simon," Jace tells him, eyebrows pulling together. 

 

Simon's eyes light up, right along with his smile. His shoulders sag a little in relief. "I know. I just- if you needed some time, I could understand that." 

 

"Thanks, but I'm good," Jace replies easily. 

 

"Even Clary?" 

 

"Especially Clary. We should tell her first." 

 

"Yeah," Simon agrees, "that might be best." 

 

"It's probably not going to go over well," Jace comments, feigning for casual and missing by a long shot. 

 

Simon sighs. "Probably not," he agrees. He drops his hands and starts twisting his fingers together, an anxious gesture. "I love her, more than anyone, more than I can even begin to express. But Jace… this isn't about- this doesn't have to be  _ approved  _ by her. You didn't- it's not infidelity." 

 

"She was dead, then she wasn't. But even before, it wasn't going to work." Jace clears his throat, offering an awkward shrug. "That potion kinda ruined that for me; it was never going to be the same after that, and she- she deserves better than someone who can't love her. I just don't know how I'm going to tell her that, or… this -  _ us.  _ Could we even work if she's not okay with it?" 

 

"Clary is my best friend," Simon says, like that's set in stone and never going away. "The situation is complicated, very much so, but it happened. When Clary kissed you at the seelie court, she couldn't help how she felt, and I forgave her for it; trust me, that was  _ not  _ easy. But I forgave her anyway because I know that feelings just…  _ are.  _ She'll forgive us, with time, because she's Clary; she knows, just as much as I did, that you can't help how you feel." 

 

"So, you're not gonna drop me at the first sign of her never talking to you again?" Jace asks sardonically, one eyebrow flicking up in doubt. 

 

Simon frowns at him again; it's scolding this time, which succeeds in making Jace feel like a total asshole. Simon sighs. "First of all, I wouldn't let  _ anyone  _ get in between my relationship - I never have. What we're doing, it's  _ our  _ business, and no one is entitled to it. When I was with Clary, it was me and her, full stop, and sure, I had my doubts about you and her,  _ but  _ I never allowed that to ruin us. If we don't make it, it'll be because  _ we  _ can't, not because someone else got in the way. Second of all, if Clary decides never to talk to me again because of this, she wouldn't be a very good best friend. I  _ know  _ her, Jace; she will come around." 

 

"You make it sound so simple," Jace mutters, wrinkling his nose. 

 

"Oh, it definitely won't be." Simon lets out a huff and flops back against the pillows dramatically, body unfurling as he splays out next to Jace. Their shoulders brush as Simon reaches down and grabs Jace's hand, twining their fingers together. "It's going to be very hard, but like everything else we've dealt with these past few months, we'll do it together."

 

Jace hums. "If you say so." 

 

They're quiet for a long beat, just holding hands and staring at the ceiling in comfortable silence. Jace keeps waiting for it to be uncomfortable, but it's just as easy as breathing. But he knows that even breathing can get hard in certain moments. 

 

Simon eventually tsks and turns his head to stare at Jace. "So, PDA is a-okay, we can tell people we're doing this dating thing - Clary first, and we're just going to let things come naturally?" 

 

"Yeah," Jace says, "sounds about right." 

 

"Cool." Simon smiles and leans over to peck his cheek, then pops up from the bed, dropping his hand as he goes. "So, let's go on a date." 

 

Jace blinks. "What, right now?" 

 

"Yeah, why not?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I really appreciate them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited about this chapter! Just a reminder: this fic is Explicit, so there is some smut, but it's not a whole lot, and I promise you it fits well into the story. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: explicit sexual content, dissociation (not during sex), bruises on throat (not during sex), and maybe a little bit of ruining, but only in the best way ;)

Dating Simon is… simple. 

 

Jace doesn't really know what he was expecting, but doing this is world's easier than he'd thought it would be. They're still inherently  _ them,  _ which is a relief. They still bicker, they still mock, they still tease. They still sleep in the same bed, even if they're shamelessly cuddling now - Jace protests calling it that, but Simon is insistent. They still have their rough moments, the ones where the world seems pointless and bleak, but they handle those just the way they always have. The only real difference between what they are now and what they were before is that they kiss and start calling their outings a date. 

 

They're still traveling, though they're gradually heading in the direction of home, and Jace is pleasantly surprised by how easy all of this is. But now that he thinks about it, they didn't have a lot of lines to cross to get here. They were already holding hands, already joined at the hip, already working as a unit before. They didn't really have all that far to go, if Jace is honest with himself. 

 

It's fun, but it's not a rush. He doesn't get caught up in it, doesn't get swept away, doesn't lose himself to everything that is  _ Simon.  _ But that's what makes it so fucking  _ perfect.  _ He has this and he has everything else too. It's exhilarating, but it's not all-consuming, and Jace thinks it's better that way. 

 

After his relationship with Clary, after all the movies Simon has made him watch, after all the songs he's come across, he expects to feel disappointed by the fact that he isn't burned alive with passion and overtaken with the feeling of being in love with Simon. But he's the farthest thing from that; he's so fucking  _ grateful.  _ Being with Simon is easy, peaceful, calming. It's like he's free to be himself and not chained to what sits between them. 

 

Because something  _ does  _ sit between them. 

 

Jace feels it every time they kiss - the way his heart picks up speed, the way excitement and desire curls warm in his stomach, the way his mind goes a little foggy with want. It's there, so very much  _ there,  _ but it's not overbearing. Simon will pull away, or Jace will, and they'll have to catch their breaths, but nothing about it is demanding. They ease towards it slowly but surely, touches lingering and expanding farther, letting it unfold gradually and naturally. But it never, not once, breaks Jace apart and makes him into that one purpose. 

 

There are other things too, things Jace doesn't expect. 

 

They've held hands before, so it stuns him a little the first time Simon's hand brushes his and makes his heart flutter in a rather embarrassing way. Simon teases him about his blush for at least two hours, Jace tells him that his face is stupid - it's all he's got in that moment; he knows it's weak, but fuck, so is  _ he.  _ The first time Simon calls him his boyfriend to the lady giving out tickets at the theatre, Jace is nearly rocked off his feet by the burst of pride and pleasure he feels from that. Thankfully, Simon doesn't notice. The first time Simon buys him something, Jace has to excuse himself to the bathroom so he can hide his smile and stop being an idiot - it's literally  _ just  _ a small keychain of the letter  _ J  _ that Simon puts on his keys, so it's not even really a gift, but Simon uses his own money and doesn't even stutter when he says it's for him, so Jace is a little sappy after that; sue him. 

 

The day before they make it to New York, Simon pulls off an exit to get gas, sees signs for  _ Fairgrounds  _ and cuts off the GPS before following them. It turns out that there's a Fair going on, and Jace can't argue with Simon when he makes that weird, twitchy face because Jace tells him he's never been on a ferris wheel; he takes it a step farther, says it's on his bucket list, and it isn't even really  _ needed,  _ but Jace can't say no that either. 

 

Jace pays for their arm bands, of course. 

 

Simon is practically  _ vibrating.  _ "I'm gonna win the  _ biggest  _ freaking stuffed thing they've got," he says with barely concealed excitement, eyes bright. 

 

Jace hides his fondness, it's very difficult, but he manages to mask it with an arched eyebrow. "Oh, you are? What about the rides?" 

 

Simon shoots him a weird look. "Both, duh," he blurts incredulously. "You need the  _ whole  _ Fair experience. Come on, there has to be some funnel cakes around here somewhere." 

 

Turns out, funnel cakes are food made by angels; Jace unabashedly  _ moans  _ into the sweetened bread, whispering something about candied clouds, and Simon's eyes light up even  _ more.  _ That leads to Jace eating bright pink cotton candy that sticks to his teeth and makes his whole mouth tingle; he likes the funnel cake better, but he doesn't mention that to Simon. 

 

The first game that Jace comes up to, a balloon popping setup, he narrows his eyes. "It's rigged," he informs Simon seriously. 

 

"Yeah," Simon agrees, snorting quietly, "it's the  _ Fair;  _ that's what they do. But guess what?" 

 

"Hmm?" 

 

"We're not exactly playing by the rules either." 

 

Which… that's true. Jace rolls his eyes and steps up first, taking the darts and flicking them out without hesitation. The man on the microphone stops talking and clears his throat loudly, then sullenly allows Jace to pick out anything from the front row. Jace smirks and picks out an overgrown banana with dreads, shoving it into Simon's arms and tugging him away, feeling very satisfied. 

 

"What?" Jace asks when Simon folds the banana under his arm and stares at him in amusement. 

 

"Nothing," Simon replies innocently, "it's just- well, you're  _ that  _ boyfriend, aren't you?" 

 

"I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about." 

 

"I know. It's hilarious. But you are, you know, you're  _ that  _ boyfriend. Show off." 

 

Jace very deliberately reaches up and flicks his hair out of his eyes. "If you've got it, flaunt it," he says with as much seriousness as he can shove into those words, biting back a grin when Simon  _ loses it.  _

 

The first ride they get on is actually pretty fun, if Jace is being honest. They slide into a bench seat and a bar clicks into place. The ride goes in circles like riding on waves, music thumping loud, and then it switches and goes backwards. Simon, of course, is having the time of his life, but Jace is surprised by how much he enjoys it too. 

 

They learn very quickly that Jace likes rides that lean towards faster and more wild; Simon enjoys those too, so it's a pretty good setup. What Simon  _ doesn't  _ enjoy is the rides that go upside down, but he insists Jace get on those without him, even when Jace protests it. He ends up on something called the  _ Ring Of Fire,  _ next to a younger girl obviously in her teen years. They give each other an awkward smile, and Jace figures that's going to be it, but then the girl actually starts  _ talking  _ to him. 

 

"Riding by yourself too?" She points down at the small crowd waiting by the fence. "My boyfriend refuses to get on here, so it's just me." 

 

Jace clears his throat. "Yeah, my boyfriend is the same. It's, uh, that cute one down there in the  _ Guardians of the Galaxy _ t-shirt." 

 

She squints down at the crowd, then her face clears as she hums. "Yeah, he's cute. Mine's the one with the face paint and green shoes." 

 

"Ah," Jace says when he locates him. "Did he win you that stuffed tiger?" 

 

"Yeah," she replies with a chuckle. "Nearly broke the bank to do it; he's  _ that  _ boyfriend." 

 

Jace jolts, head whipping around to stare at her in surprise. "Uh," he says carefully, "what's that mean exactly? Is it a bad thing?" 

 

"Nah." She shakes her head, lips curling up in a fond smile. "It's like… kinda like a man doing something stupid, yet endearing because they're trying to impress their crush. I told him I didn't  _ care,  _ but he insisted on getting me the biggest thing he could, just so I'd have it." 

 

"Dammit," Jace mutters, letting his head thump back against the headrest. 

 

The ride suddenly hisses as it gets ready to start, and the girl turns to look at him wide eyes, gaze serious. "I'm not gonna hurl, but I'll probably scream. Hope you don't mind." 

 

"It's fine," Jace tells her. 

 

It is fine, mostly. She does scream when they rock forward and sail back after nearly going upside down. Jace even laughs when her hand clamps down on his wrists and grips tight, nails digging in when they go upside down and hang there for a moment. They stay like that for a beat, all the blood rushing to their heads, and Jace blinks out at the upside down world, lips spread into a grin. It's exciting, but in that moment before they go back around at full speed, it's also very tranquil - everyone is silent, like they're all collectively holding their breath. And when the ride goes, they screams of joy and fear start pack up all at once. 

 

When it ends, Jace stumbles down the ramp with a broad smile and windswept hair, breathing heavily. Simon scoots his way over, smile just as wide, and Jace doesn't even think about; he just grabs his face and kisses him, still rushing with excitement and adrenaline. Simon laughs into his mouth, eyes wrinkling around the corners as he leads them to the next ride. 

 

They spend the whole day at the fair, well on into the night. Jace barely even notices the time passing, barely even realizes that he hasn't had one shitty thought all day. It's possibly the best he's felt in a long time; Simon seems to be in the same boat. 

 

They agree to find a hotel and sleep one more night before riding those last five hours to get home. Before they go, Simon  _ insists  _ they get on the ferris wheel. Jace isn't exactly the best at denying Simon; he's beginning to wonder if he  _ ever  _ has been, even before- well,  _ before.  _ Looking back, he had deterred Simon plenty, told him no even more, but there were moments that Jace had been just a little different towards Simon than anyone else.  He thinks, maybe, he  _ did  _ have a little bit of a crush, or maybe he just has a different perspective now. 

 

It doesn't matter; the point  _ is,  _ Simon looks at him with an earnest expression and demands they get on the ferris wheel before they go, and Jace only sighs like it's the worst thing in the world - it's not, he's actually looking forward to it, but there are some appearances he has to keep after all.

 

Turns out, Jace loves the ferris wheel. It isn't particularly thrilling or exhilarating, but as it hikes up higher and higher, it somehow grows more freeing. The air becomes cool and crisp, fresher and ruffling his hair. He can see above the whole Fair, the lights dancing like waves of bright colors below. Simon looks like he's about to topple over the side because he's leaning over to look out at everything with his lips parted. 

 

"Simon.  _ Simon."  _ Jace huffs a short laugh and reaches out to tug Simon back into the safety of the seat. His hand somehow ends up in Simon's hair, but he is not to blame for that - it certainly isn't his  _ intention,  _ it just happens. "You're just accident prone enough to actually fall to your death, so don't risk it." 

 

Simon makes a quiet sound in the back of his throat, a muffled thing that Jace can't even begin to interpret, and there's really no warning for what Simon does next. Arms hook around the back of Jace's neck, and he only gets one split second to see the wonder and want in Simon's eyes before they're kissing, hot and heavy enough to rock the seat they're confined to. 

 

It's like all the moments before when they get caught up in the mood. They could break it if they wanted to, if it didn't feel right, if they had a reason to - they exist outside of it, letting it wrap them up warm and soft rather than infect them and burn out their veins. But Jace suddenly doesn't want to stop at all; in fact, he wants to go as far as he's able, wants to let the thing that sits between them settle into the perimeter of their relationship easily. 

 

"We need to-"  _ kiss  _ "shit, Jace, we've got to-"  _ lip biting  _ "oh my fucking-"  _ fingers pressing underneath a thin graphic t-shirt  _ "we have to- okay,  _ okay,  _ just let me- let's get off this freaking ride, okay?" 

 

Jace doesn't so much as answer as he sucks a mark into Simon's neck, relishing in the strangled choking noises he gets in response. 

 

They cool down on the way to the hotel. Simon keeps smacking Jace's fingers off his thigh while he's driving, but his hits are light and he's smiling, and anyway, Jace is just  _ teasing.  _ Well, he's pretty sure that's what he's doing; he's never actually done anything sexual in a moving vehicle, but he's  _ definitely  _ adding it to the list to try at some point. Then Simon can wreck the van and Jace can tease him mercilessly about it. 

 

Jace is beginning to think that his priorities are a little skewed, but his mind is a little scrambled from all the intensity from the ferris wheel, so he's not really holding it against himself. 

 

Their recovery time is impeccable. It takes the approximate length from the ground floor of the hotel to the third floor for them to go from just lightly touching to yanking at clothes and stumbling into walls. What should be a three minute walk to their room nearly takes ten and at least two people stick their heads out into the hall to roll their eyes and shake their heads before going back into their rooms. Simon gasps out laughter into Jace's mouth, his hands shoved into Jace's leather jacket, trying to shove it off his shoulders, and okay-  _ okay.  _

 

Jace's back eventually - fucking  _ finally  _ \- hits their door; Simon fumbles with the keycard, trying to split his attention between getting it out of his pocket and kissing Jace. It takes a few tries, but the door opens, leaving Jace to stumble backwards inside, and that's just- well, that's just fucking fantastic, really. Simon yanks the keycard from the slot, tosses it onto the table closest to the door, and kicks the door shut with his foot in one smooth motion. He's still fumbling with the jacket, so Jace helps him by yanking it off and trying not to knock into whatever is in this room they haven't stopped to look around at - he thinks he's doing okay so far (he's not, he's knocked over a chair, the empty ice bucket, and tossed his jacket too far and made it land behind the TV). 

 

"Wait, wait, just-  _ wait."  _

 

Jace jerks back, blinking rapidly. "Yeah, yeah, what's- is everything okay?" 

 

"Yeah, I mean, it's just- are you sure?" Simon looks at him so earnestly, so serious, so  _ tender.  _ He licks his lips and clears his throat. "We can- we don't have to. I mean, it's not something that-" 

 

"It feels natural," Jace cuts him off, swallowing thickly, fingers twitching restlessly. "If you're okay with it, I'm not gonna stop." 

 

Simon bobs his head. "Cool, cool, cool. Yeah, that's- yeah. Okay, cool, let's just-" 

 

"Mhm," Jace agrees, not entirely sure  _ what  _ he's agreeing to at this point, but shamelessly willing to go along with whatever. 

 

They stumble over to the bed, kicking off shoes and tugging shirts over heads, and Jace is a little deliriously stunned by the press of cold skin beneath his fingers. Simon is fit, Jace has known that for a while;  he's seen him shirtless a couple of times because living in each other's back pockets really doesn't leave much room to the imagination. That's all well and fine, except it's suddenly a problem now that Jace has reached out and touched. He knows, now that he's crossed that line, he won't be able to keep his hands to himself the next time Simon comes padding out the shower without a shirt on. 

 

But whatever, that's a problem for future Jace; in-the-now Jace is stupidly pleased by the stretch of skin that he has the green light to explore. Simon seems equally delighted by what Jace has to offer, cold fingers drifting nice and light over hot skin, pressing in and curling like he's cupping something precious in his palms. 

 

And you know, Jace really isn't in any capacity to deal with that level of intimacy, so he intends to barrel right over it by tossing himself to the bed, but Simon stops him. Blinking slow, looking a little dazzled and breathless, Simon steps forward and reaches up to brush a portion of hair behind Jace's ear, holding his gaze and smiling softly. His expression says  _ hey, there you are, there's those eyes, don't hide from me,  _ and Jace has never wanted to strip himself bare and splay out for someone, offering himself up from the deepest dredges of his fucking soul, not like he does right now. 

 

Simom huffs a short laugh, something gentle and sweet, and his eyes are so bright and warm that Jace can't breathe. He knows, he must know. 

 

"As easy as breathing," Simon comments, like it's a marvel, like he's astonished, like he's forgotten how hard breathing can be sometimes - honestly, Jace is starting to forget too. 

 

Jace thinks  _ I love you, I don't think any poison could make me stop, this is real, this is real, this is-  _

 

They fall into it like it's the most natural thing in the world. Jace hasn't ever done this before, and it shows, but it's not detrimental to the moment. He only hesitates a little, then figures that the best way to know is just to  _ do it.  _

 

That's how he ends up with Simon's dick in his mouth, the weight of it salty and heady against his tongue, and Simon has one hand in his hair, tugging and yanking just so, and  _ oh fuck.  _ He goes at it until Simon chokes out his name -  _ Jace, oh g- oh Jace  _ \- and pulls at his hair, not too rough but guiding, and Jace crawl-hobbles up the length of his body. 

 

Jace knows there's more to it, knows that there's penetration and fingers and rolling bodies together until one ends where the other begins, but there's no rush; they can get there with time. For now, so soon, they just go with hands and mouths, so eager to touch and kiss that they don't want to pull away, not even to go farther. 

 

Simon spits into his hand, strokes Jace's dick, and it shouldn't be as appealing as it is, but he's gasping into Simon's neck in ten seconds flat  _ anyway.  _ With some maneuvering, they manage to position themselves in the perfect way to allow for the best amount of friction. Jace ends up straddling Simon's lap, their dicks lined up, pushing into Simon's slick fist that wraps around them both, and it's so,  _ so  _ good. Jace presses moans into Simon's mouth, licking his whimpers from the seal of his lips, shuddering and jerking his hips faster. 

 

It's close, but Jace keeps his tongue from getting punctured when Simon's fangs drop. Simon jerks back, eyes widening, but Jace just reaches up with one hand and grabs his chin hard, holding him still while he runs his tongue over the pointy tips of each fang, plucking at it with soft, wet flesh. Simon screws his eyes shut and trembles from head to toe, spilling into his own fist, using the mess to allow Jace easier movement. 

 

"Oh," Jace breathes, pulling back to stare at Simon. 

 

He's almost over the edge, he's pushing into Simon's palm, practically vibrating out his skin, and Simon's staring up at him with visible fangs, eyes so soft that Jace can melt into them. He finds his release with a low whine, curling forward to catch Simon's bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it out and nipping it, mindful of the fangs, riding the moment out. When it's over, he rasps, "Oh," again and hopes that conveys just how fucking  _ whole  _ he feels. 

 

Simon has no reason to be winded - he literally doesn't even need to  _ breathe  _ \- but he's panting anyway. Jace flops to the right, suddenly boneless and relaxed, curling into Simon without a care in the world about being naked or the mess on them. They both release a pleased hum at the same time with the same inflection of satisfaction; it's so in sync that they both crack up, chuckling against each other until they're breathless all over again. 

 

Once they catch their breath again, Simon turns his head and beams at Jace. "That was…" 

 

"Yeah," Jace agrees in a would be casual way if it weren't for the grin playing at the corners of his lips. He lays his head over to look at Simon, gaze flicking over his features hungrily. "Thank you." 

 

"For?" Simon asks slowly, crease forming between his eyebrows. 

 

Jace blinks slow, smile softening. "It was natural. I've never- well, it's never been like that for me. No, don't frown like that, I'm  _ fine;  _ don't let my baggage ruin the moment. I'm just- I'm saying thank you, that's all." 

 

"You don't have to thank me." Simon sighs quietly and reaches out to grab Jace's hand, tugging it up and over while he curls on his side. Jace scoots closer, curling into his cool back, skin on skin, and he presses his forehead into the dip of Simon's shoulder. "Jace, that's what it's supposed to be like. I'm gonna tell you something though; you can't tell another soul, okay?" 

 

Jace presses a kiss into Simon's skin, lips curling up in faint amusement. "My lips are sealed, unless it's embarrassing, then I make no promises." 

 

Simon huffs a short laugh. "It's not embarrassing, it's just- it's never been like that for me either. Not even with Clary. It was fun or whatever, but it wasn't ever- it wasn't… special. Our special moments were reserved for our friendship and didn't extend to our relationship. It was the same with Maia. I've never had both, not until you." 

 

"Oh." Jace swallows thickly, his heart fluttering wildly in his chest - he's sure Simon can hear it. He clears his throat, fighting the emotion he gets from that admission, and because he's an asshole, he goes on to say, "Well, that's pretty fucking embarrassing actually, Simon, but your secret is safe with me." 

 

"Thanks," Simon says, word flat and dry but full of amusement all the same. He hums and tucks Jace's arm close his chest. "Is it bad that I don't want to to home yet? I'm still- well, it's probably shitty, but I kinda want to keep being like this for a little while longer. I don't want it to end." 

 

Jace has never related to something so much in his entire life. He understands what Simon means, more than he can ever say. He doesn't want to lose this, doesn't want to have to put it on hold, doesn't want anything waiting on them at home to get in the way. It  _ is  _ shitty, but Jace is selfish as hell - he knows that, but it's nice knowing that Simon is equally selfish, at least in this. Still, whether from the, frankly,  _ amazing  _ sex they just had or because they're  _ them,  _ Jace has hope throbbing proud and unavoidable in his chest, an inescapable vulnerability. 

 

So, he takes a deep breath and says, "It's not gonna end, Simon. We're not gonna let it. Whatever comes, we'll do what we always do; we'll deal with it… together." 

 

Simon's breathing evens out. Soft and slightly sleepy, he slurs, "Yeah, that's- yeah. We will," and then he's drifting off with a happy sigh. 

 

Jace quirks a small smile and cuts the lamp off, bathing them in darkness, and he falls asleep wrapped around Simon. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  


Jace wakes up with his back hitting the wall, choking on a scream, and the faint hues of blue dancing around his vision. His throat is sore, aching, and he can't breathe for a second; it's not a panic attack, it's phantom fingers leaving bruises in his skin. 

 

"Jace!" Simon is suddenly there, flickering in front of him, eyes wide. The lamp is back on and Jace can see bruises around his throat fading slowly. "Serendipity. Jace, hey, serendipity." 

 

Jace is confused, not sure why that word is being said, has no idea what the fuck is going on. His body  _ aches,  _ hurting like he'd gotten thrown across the room, and that appears to be exactly what happened. He blinks, lightly rubs at his throat, focuses on breathing. It takes him a second, but he sees Simon's whole body trembling, his hands shaking as they dangle in the air like he wants to reach out and touch but is scared to. 

 

"What happened?" Jace croaks, throat raw. 

 

Simon swallows and wraps his arms around himself, eyes wide. "You- it was a nightmare. It must have- it's called dissociation, I'm pretty sure. You didn't know, you didn't mean to, but you weren't- you weren't  _ you,  _ and it comes from PTSD. Has- did Charles ever talk about that?" 

 

Charles  _ has  _ talked about that, explained it in depth, asked so many questions that Jace is nearly sure he has that diagnosis. He knows exactly what Simon is talking about, so he's instantly horrified. Feeling sick, Jace lifts his hand and reaches out for Simon's throat, measuring, and Simon flinches back; whether from fear or to hide that Jace's fingers match up to those bruises as they fade, Jace has no idea, but it's too late. 

 

"I did that," Jace whispers hoarsely. He drops his hand, the dream coming back in fractured images, dancing unwanted behind his eyes. "I was dreaming about being the Owl. I never- oh fuck, Simon, I'm so sorry. I- I'm  _ so sorry."  _

 

Simon blinks, eyes widening. "What? No, oh my- Jace,  _ no."  _ He steps closer and reaches out, but stops when Jace flinches back this time. "I'm fine. The mark- it stopped you, I'm  _ fine.  _ I'm worried about  _ you.  _ It threw you across the freaking room!" 

 

Jace takes in a deep breath. "It didn't stop me soon enough. I pinned you to the bed while you were sleeping and tried to choke you. Fuck, Simon, I could have- I  _ did  _ hurt you. I'm so-" 

 

"Stop, no, just- just  _ stop,"  _ Simon says insistently, stepping closer again until naked skin nearly brushes together. "I'm perfectly fine, okay? It just startled me, that's  _ all.  _ But you? Jace, you could have been killed by the mark.  _ I'm  _ sorry. Shit, I'm so-" 

 

"It'll happen again," Jace cuts him off, fingers twitching with the memory of squeezing a throat he was pressing kisses to hours earlier. "Simon, it could happen at any time. It's not-  _ I'm  _ not safe." 

 

Simon frowns at him. "No.  _ Hell no.  _ You're not doing this. You are  _ not  _ going to break up with me because of this; I'm not going to let you. No, nope,  _ no.  _ We will handle this together,  _ not  _ apart." 

 

Jace just stares at him, thinks about  _ to love is to destroy,  _ and starts to understand what  _ to be loved is to be destroyed  _ really means. They'd do it too, love each other right through the destruction; Jace can see it, can practically watch it unfold before his very eyes. Simon looks so determined, so set it stone, and Jace has already gone too far to pull back now. A part of him that Simon helped him create, it has hope that they'll work through this together as well, and maybe they can. 

 

Maybe. 

 

Jace takes a deep breath. "It's never happened before, right? So… why now?" 

 

"It used to happen in the beginning," Simon admits, biting his lip for a moment. "Back when we slept on the couch. You'd wake up swinging, but I was on the other end, so you never got to me. It was just- Jace, it was just a bad night, that's all." 

 

"No more cuddling," Jace says firmly, throat working as he swallows. "We put a pillow between us when we sleep; it'll give us enough time to- to notice if my brain's all scrambled. No more cuddling, at least for now, okay?" 

 

Simon nods slowly. "Yeah, I- yeah. That's okay, we'll work on it. Together, right?" 

 

"Together," Jace confirms with a weary sigh, feeling like complete shit. 

 

"We're awake now though, so can I- is it okay if I touch you?" Simon asks cautiously. 

 

Jace simply nods, exhausted and sore. Simon steps forward and reaches up to touch his chin, tilting it gently to frown at the bruises on his neck. Jace watches Simon match up his fingers - they measure up perfectly - and he looks nauseated at the sight. Swallowing thickly, Simon leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to the bruised skin, pulling back to look at Jace in apology. 

 

"Hey," Jace says softly, "it's okay, it's not your fault." 

 

"I hate it," Simon croaks, eyes filling with frustrated tears, and Jace's heart shatters then and there. "Jace, I hate this stupid mark  _ so much."  _ He drops his hands from Jace and scrubs harshly at his wet cheeks as the tears spill over. "Shit, I'm sorry, this isn't- it's not about me right now. I'm just-" 

 

Jace tugs his hands down and leans forward to kiss each cheek, shaking his head seriously as he pulls back. "No, Simon, don't do that. We're both a little broken, that's how it's been for awhile, but we're dealing with it, remember? It's about you and me, about our shit and everything else, so don't go getting the idea that one's is more important than the other. I'll halve your shit and carry it if you'll carry half of mine. Sound good?" 

 

Simon gives a wet sniffle, blinking as his lips curl up at the corners. "Yeah, that sounds good to me." 

 

It's really not the time, not after everything, not after the heavy situation they just went through, but Jace finds the words falling out anyway. He doesn't even mean to say them; they just slip out without even a bit of a struggle. 

 

"I love you," he murmurs, those three words so careful and honest, weighted with so much more than they can express. 

 

Simon just laughs quietly. "I know. Shit, Jace, I- I know. You love with everything you have in you and then some; I'd have to be an idiot not to notice." 

 

"You  _ are _ an idiot," Jace quips back automatically. 

 

"Yeah," Simon agrees, eyes brightening with tears all over again, "an idiot who loves you, so maybe be a little nicer next time." 

 

Jace pauses, searching Simon's eyes, finding only sincerity and emotion. "You love me back," he says carefully, not meaning it to be a question but sounding like one anyway. 

 

Simon shrugs halfheartedly. "No, not back. I just- I love you, period. It's not an exchange. I just do." 

 

_ Oh,  _ Jace thinks,  _ oh, this is what it means, this is what love is supposed to be.  _

 

"You ruined me, Simon Lewis," Jace tells him, and he realizes that those words are true. "In the best way, but you did. Fuck." 

 

"Ditto," Simon replies playfully, winking and putting on a weak smile. 

 

They go to bed after that, stuffing a pillow between their bodies, a barrier meant to halt the worst parts of themselves. The best parts of themselves though, they reach out to each other in the form of their hands threading together on top of the pillow. They drift off to sleep, holding hands, united by the love they have while keeping the sharp edges of their broken pieces away. 

 

It's enough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, these two do things to my heart, lemme tell ya. 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I really love them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a heavier chapter, a look into Clary's side of things, and some awkwardness. 
> 
> Warnings for this chap: talks of hunting, talks of murder (sort of), and some unrequited feelings are had.

They make it back to New York just as the day starts to bleed away. They unload in the apartment, grumbling quietly about the fact that they can tell that Jordan has been here while they were away. They don't stay long, already agreeing to head to the institute and handle their main objective as soon as they can. They put on a brave face, but they're both fucking  _ terrified  _ about it. 

 

Still, they go. 

 

It's just dusk when they pull up in the van, and Jace is so happy to get out of the damn thing that he stretches like a cat and beams at Simon, who rolls his eyes at Jace's dramatics. 

 

"Ready?" Simon asks lightly, eyebrows raising. 

 

Jace falls into step beside Simon, setting his shoulders and taking a deep breath. "Not in the least, but let's do it anyway." 

 

They don't have plans to immediately search Clary out. It had been agreed upon that they'd check in with Alec and Izzy before getting her alone. They should have known better; since when has Clary  _ ever _ been somewhere else besides the middle of everything? As usual, she's right there when they walk into the ops room, standing beside Alec, her head tilted back as she laughs. 

 

"Shit," Simon mutters. 

 

Jace is inclined to agree with him. 

 

Then, Clary catches sight of them and her face clears. Alec straightens up, his eyes brightening as he realizes his parabatai is in the room, and Izzy's shoulders visibly loosen. Magnus, who's sitting on the table and swinging his legs, slides down and smiles at them kindly. Jace kind of wants to sink into the ground and die. 

 

"This is- it's real, right?" Jace whispers hesitantly, staring at Clary uncertainly. 

 

Simon reaches out and lightly touches his elbow, looking at him in open concern. "Hey, look at me, okay?" Jace does and Simon smiles. "This  _ is  _ real, I promise. Serendipity. It's real."

 

Jace offers him a small smile, so endlessly grateful in that moment that he's nearly swept away with it. He takes a deep breath and focuses back on everyone else, watching them. Izzy and Alec seem to be refraining from coming over with great effort, Magnus less so, and Clary is approaching them hesitantly. Her earthy green eyes sweep between them slowly, assessing, cautious. 

 

"Hi," she offers when she's finally in front of them. 

 

"Clary," Jace murmurs, staring at her, blinking rapidly, waiting for her to disappear. She doesn't. 

 

Clary smiles, it's angelic, and it hits Jace then and there that she's really alive. "Jace," she says softly, her gaze full of unbridled joy, "I'm glad you're back. I've missed you. Both of you. Simon, come here." 

 

Jace watches them embrace, the hug easy and natural; for a split second, he's racked with jealousy, but not over Simon  _ or  _ Clary, jealous because he wants that easy friendship too. This is already harder than he's prepared for. 

 

"You're looking good, Fray," Simon teases lightly, tugging on a lock of her wavy hair. "You seem better since I saw you last." 

 

Clary gives a smug half-shrug. "The wonders of being home. So, where did you two get off to?" 

 

"Ah," Simon says delicately, shooting Jace a glance, clearly not sure what to say. 

 

Jace clears his throat. "Impromptu road trip." 

 

"Uh huh." Clary arches an eyebrow. "Wouldn't have anything to do with my sudden arrival, would it?" 

 

"Everything to do with it, actually," Jace admits, figuring honesty is the best route. "Listen, can we talk to you alone for a bit?" 

 

"Yeah, sure," Clary says easily, but her shoulders are tight and her smile is stiff. She leads them into her room; Alec, Izzy, and Magnus watch them go without comment. As they head in, she holds open the door and takes a deep breath. "They, uh, told me some things have changed since everything." 

 

"Understatement and a half," Simon replies sardonically, lips twisting. "It was a very… hard few months." 

 

"But you managed." Clary closes the door and crosses her arms, staring at them with a small frown. "You all kept going, just like- just like I'd hoped you would. But I- I have to admit, I was a little hurt by the reception from you two." 

 

"My fault," Jace informs her immediately, shooting Simon an arch look when he goes to interrupt. Simon snaps his mouth closed and Jace focuses back on Clary. "I've been, uh… not well. And things are hard to- to handle sometimes. I needed some time, so we… left. I should've called, I'm sorry." 

 

Clary blinks, concern stealing over her face as she steps closer. "You're sick?" 

 

Jace scratches the back of his neck. "Not- not like that. You could say I'm sick, I guess. But it's not- it's just my head. I'm messed up, is all." 

 

"Mental health, Clary," Simon clarifies gently, sighing quietly. 

 

"Yeah," Jace agrees, "that. Uh, PTSD, panic attacks, hallucinations, dissociating, separation anxiety, that kind of shit. According to Charles, anyway - that's my therapist, by the way." 

 

"You… have a therapist," Clary says slowly, blinking and staring, staring and blinking. 

 

Jace just nods. "Yeah. It's, uh- yeah." 

 

That settles between them for a long moment. Clary processes that, her eyes slowly softening over time. Jace thinks he'll tell her all of it one day, maybe get into the nitty gritty, but he also isn't sure he wants anyone to know, not even her - just Simon, who's been there through the majority of it. Clary finally releases a deep sigh and moves around them to flop on her bed, pulling on knee up under her chin; she lays her cheek on it and regards them. 

 

"Is it my fault?" she asks softly. 

 

"Yes," Jace says, just as Simon blurts, "No!" 

 

They stare at each other, try again. 

 

"Yes?" Simon corrects cautiously, just as Jace awkwardly mutters, "No?" 

 

"Well?" Clary sits up, bottom lip caught between her teeth. "Which is it?" 

 

Jace sighs and shakes his head. "Both? Neither? I'm not entirely sure. Are you a part of the reason? Yes. Are you the whole reason? No. I've been messed up for a long time, Clary, I just- I've been… landsliding since I came back from the dead, since you brought me back. But you're not to blame, not really." 

 

"I did that because-" 

 

"Because you loved me." 

 

_ "No,"  _ Clary says fiercely, dropping her foot the floor with a dull thump. Her hands clench into fists in her lap. "No, Jace. I would have done that for Izzy, for Alec, and for Magnus, for all of them. I don't- I didn't get to pick my family, and in the end, I lost them all too. But all of you, all of us? We're a family, and I'll be damned if I lose any of you." 

 

"Okay." Jace blows out a deep breath, relief he didn't know he needed breaking loose in him. "Okay." 

 

Clary takes a deep breath, her gaze shifting to Simon warily. "And you. How do you play in all of this? With Jace, I mean." 

 

Simon and Jace share another look, wait a beat, and then Simon clears his throat. "Well," he starts, "after you- after we thought you died, it was… rough. On all of us, really, but me and Jace… we were really messed up. We both blamed ourselves for you being dead, and Jace was so messed up after Lilith; he was scared he was going to hurt someone. But this mark on my head, it protects me, so he felt safer with me than anyone else. I- I just- I helped him." 

 

"He saved my life," Jace corrects quietly, avoiding both of their gazes. "He made sure I ate, helped me remember what was real, kept me… as sane as I could be. If it wasn't for him, I'd be- I don't know, but I'd probably be fucked beyond repair." 

 

Simon swallows audibly. "Keeping him going kept me going, and we- we just became- we got close. For the first couple of weeks, we stayed in my apartment, didn't leave, didn't let anyone in. It was… bad, really bad. Then, one day, Jace suggests we get away for awhile, so we- we did." 

 

"Yeah, we did." Jace looks up to find Clary watching them with her eyebrows scrunched together. Guilt nearly clogs his throat, but he pushes past it. "We, uh, were better off for it. Came back better than we left, closer too." 

 

Clary laughs awkwardly. "Who'd have thought? If I'd known my death could have made you guys be friends, I'd have faked it sooner." 

 

"Bad form, Fray," Simon mutters, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. "Too soon." 

 

"Fair enough." Clary coughs around a little laugh, her eyes dancing. "So, you guys became friends? That's awesome!" 

 

"It's a little more than that," Jace says slowly, wringing his hands together. "You have to understand, we've been living together for months. Early on, I couldn't handle it if Simon was out of my sight; I never knew what was real. So, we basically did everything together." 

 

Simon hums. "Yeah, we slept on the couch together, ate together, went everywhere together. It got easier after a while, but it took some time." 

 

"And I have nightmares constantly," Jace puts in, swallowing thickly. "Every single night. They were worse in the beginning, didn't let us sleep through the night, but they've eased up some. The point is, we got better together, slowly but surely. And even when we  _ could  _ have went our separate ways, we just… never did." 

 

"I'm sorry it was so hard on you both," Clary whispers, blinking around fresh tears. "I thought - and this is so horrible - that I'd be happy to hear that everyone missed me. I was scared that everyone would just… move on. But this is- this  _ sucks.  _ God, I'm so sorry." 

 

"We did move on, with time," Simon tells her sadly, a small smile flitting painfully over his face. "It wasn't the same and you were always apart of us, but we kept on going. We had to." 

 

"I know." Clary swipes at her cheeks, taking in a shuddering breath. "Honestly, I'm  _ glad.  _ I don't want any of you to be- to have that pain forever." 

 

"It wasn't easy for you either," Jace notes, eyeing her shrewdly. He knows her, possibly more than anyone, save for Simon. 

 

Clary lets out an explosive breath. "No," she agrees sadly, "it wasn't. I spent so me months alone. It was- it could have been worse. I mean, I survived, right? But it was hard. I was snowed in with little food, in a remote cabin with no phone or stele, and I had no idea where to begin with getting home." 

 

Jace blinks. He hasn't even thought of that. He instantly feels like shit. "What did you do?" he asks warily, watching her with rapt attention. 

 

"I tried to get to a town the first day. Passed out in the snow, nearly froze to death. When I realized that wouldn't work, I went back to the cabin. Just in time too; I got snowed in for two weeks. By the time I could actually go outside again, I'd already ate all the food. So, I… went hunting." 

 

Simon jolts like he's been electrocuted. "You  _ what?  _ Clary, did you- did you actually eat an animal?" 

 

Clary grimaces. "There were a couple of weapons at the cabin; I would have starved otherwise. I used the crossbow, took down a rabbit in the edge of the woods. It was… not fun. I burned all the meat and cried while doing it, but what else could I do?" 

 

"No, that's- I mean, you did the right thing. Just… wow." Simon shoves his hands into his pockets, visibly appalled by this information. "Sorry, ignore me. If roles were reversed, I'd have starved, so kudos to you, I guess." 

 

"Right." Clary snorts and rolls her eyes. "Well, I did that pretty regularly. Hunting rabbits and actually managed to take down a couple of deer. I actually got pretty good at it, I think. I started being smarter about leaving - wore better clothes, made snowshoes, took fire with me like a torch. But the farther I ventured, the less I saw. It was just…  _ snow.  _ So much snow." 

 

"How'd you get home?" Jace asks curiously, officially caught up in the story. 

 

"Well, to put it plainly," Clary mutters, wrinkling her nose, "Jonathan. He was, uh, still there. When we first landed, he was still trying to get out of the casket-thingy. I figured out pretty quickly that he needed to touch me to come back to life fully. So, I locked him in there." 

 

"He hadn't touched you?" Simon asks in confusion. 

 

Clary frowns, shaking her head. "No. He tried, before the explosion, but I jerked out of the way. He kept trying to reach for me, so I knew we needed do touch for whatever Lilith carved into me to work. The longer we went without touching, the more that mark faded." 

 

Jace hums quietly. "And he helped you escape?" 

 

There's a long beat of silence. Clary's throat clicks as she swallows and ducks her head. Her hair hides her face slightly, but Jace can see her skin growing splotchy as she tries to hold back tears. Jace suddenly wants to touch her, wants to hug her, wants to comfort her somehow; he can't, not until she knows everything, but he aches with it. 

 

Clary gets herself together and looks up again with a watery smile. "I guess I was a little messed up too. It had almost been three months. All I had was myself, Jonathan screaming from his container, and animals I had to hear die before I ate them. I painted a lot, read books, chopped wood and filled the fireplace, but I was- I wasn't okay. And one day, I just… snapped." 

 

Jace tenses, can feel Simon going stiff too, and he carefully murmurs, "What did you do?" 

 

"I killed him," Clary says flatly. She has a faraway look in her eyes, her body relaxed. She looks unattached, unhinged,  _ exhausted.  _ "He was screaming my name, calling out to me, and I just- I couldn't take it anymore. Walked outside and spent all day making a pyre. It took me nearly three hours to get his stupid casket-thingy on it; I screamed at him, cried, almost broke my damn foot. Then, I lit a match and watched him burn. He screamed for hours, but then he went silent, and by dawn, he was nothing but ash." 

 

Jace sucks in a sharp breath, eyes going wide, and Simon chokes around  _ oh my g-  _ as he shifts around. Clary blinks, jerking a little like she's coming back to herself. The tears flood back then, her chin trembling as they spill over, and Simon kneels down in front of her, drawing her into a hug. It takes Jace a second to realize that he's right there beside him, pulling her into his arms too, holding her. 

 

She cries for a very long time; they hold her through it. 

 

When she's limp from the tears, she pushes them away and scrubs at her face, letting out a frustrated growl. "Sorry, I'm just- it's just a lot. But um, I guess with all his screaming and the big fire, someone far off saw it and notified the police. They came out in trucks built for the snow. I snuck out, stole one, and followed the tracks back to the closest town. I borrowed someone's phone, but would you believe I couldn't remember  _ anyone's  _ number?" 

 

"Really?" Simon blurts, looking surprised. He stands up, pulling Jace with him. "Who'd you call?" 

 

"You're gonna laugh. God, do you remember Mrs. Wilson? Our music teacher? She gave us her number in ninth grade for emergencies." Clary lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head. "I don't- I have no idea  _ why  _ her number is the only one I could remember, but it was. So, I called her and told her it was an emergency. She actually booked me a flight from where I was to New York. And then I was back home, just like that." 

 

"Wow," Simon mutters. 

 

"Yeah," Jace agrees, "wow." 

 

Clary nods. "I know." 

 

They're all silent for another long moment, processing that. Jace almost can't believe it, doesn't really want to. He wonders what he would have done in that situation, knows that he wouldn't have had the same drive and strength Clary had. Most people don't - very few people could make it out of something like that. 

 

"Damn, Fray, that's a wild adventure," Simon comments with a low whistle. 

 

"Yeah, I thought that I'd be there forever, living off animals and looking at snow until I died of old age. It was horrifying," Clary admits, going for joking and missing by a lot. "But things are- it's okay again. Things can go back to normal." 

 

"Not exactly," Jace blurts out, wincing when her eyes shift over to him. 

 

"Ah. Yeah, I- I wondered about that." Clary closes her eyes for a second, then opens them. She stares at Jace hard, expression giving nothing away. "I didn't really entertain the possibility that you'd move on from me like  _ that  _ until a month in. I didn't even really think about it much then. I started out imagining our reunion, but that stopped over time. I think I stopped thinking about love in general. But then, when I was coming back on the plane, I actually stopped to think about it. So, did you- are we- is it over?" 

 

And here it is. The moment that's going to hurt no matter how it's delivered. Jace nearly can't get the words out, but he does. "It was over before you even- before you were even gone. Lilith gave me this potion, do you remember?" 

 

Clary blinks. She clearly isn't expecting this. Her lips tip down in a frown. "Yes, but Magnus said that if it was- oh.  _ Oh.  _ You never- oh." 

 

"Yeah," Jace rasps quietly, "oh." 

 

"So, just like that, it was the end?" Clary heaves a sigh and scowls down at her lap. "That  _ bitch.  _ Jace, I'm- that's horrible, I'm so sorry." 

 

_ "You're  _ sorry?" 

 

"Yes?" 

 

Jace stares at her. "Clary, you didn't- you never did anything wrong. You're the one who got fucked in this situation. I mean, I hate her for what she did, but I can't- I don't feel… heartbroken." 

 

"Still, it's wrong," Clary spits, looking ready to fight and claw at the injustice of it all. "It's invasive! Just because what we had wasn't strong enough to- to break it doesn't mean that it was consensual." 

 

"I know, I know that, I do." Jace takes a deep breath and shares a wary look with Simon. "I'm sorry anyway. I love you, I always will, but it's- it isn't like that anymore. I can't even feel any of it, if I even wanted to, and I- I don't." 

 

Clary sags into herself. "We couldn't try? Do you  _ want  _ to try? I don't even know if  _ I  _ want to try." 

 

"We're always in the worst situations. When you were my sister, I couldn't love you like one. Now that you're not, that's all I can love you as." Jace grits his teeth and crosses his arms. Simon is very still and very quiet at his shoulder. "I don't want to try, Clary, I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so-" 

 

"Why not?" Clary shoves to her feet, suddenly right in front of him, her chin tilted defiantly. "Don't we deserve the chance to- to at least find out? Because here's the thing, I just spent months not sure of anything. I don't even- I don't know if I even loved you like that at all." 

 

"Maybe you didn't," Jace suggests quietly, staring right into her eyes. "Maybe we never would have worked anyway. It doesn't matter now." 

 

"But it  _ does.  _ It matters to me. I can't let Lilith dictate what I lose in life. I have to- I need to know." 

 

"I can't, Clary, I just- I can't." 

 

Clary steps forward and stares at him, searching his eyes. She tilts her head. "There's someone else. Oh, Jace, why didn't you just  _ say  _ that? Now I just feel like an idiot."

 

"I don't want to hurt you," Jace whispers, his chest feeling too tight for his lungs. 

 

"It hurts anyway. It was going to hurt no matter what, whether we could have been us again or not. Things are… different. It just- change  _ hurts.  _ But if there's someone else, that's all I need to know, isn't it? If you can move on, why can't I?" 

 

"You can. Clary, you  _ can.  _ It can be easier. I'll help you. We all will. I'm sorry." 

 

"Stop apologizing," Clary tells him, smiling gently and stepping forward to reach up and touch his cheek. She looks crushed. "Are you happy?" 

 

"Yes," Jace croaks, hating the truth for what it is. 

 

Clary's eyes sink closed; the force of her devastation hits him square in the chest, to the point he's nearly breathless with it. He knows what this is, knows it has to happen.  _ Are you happy,  _ she asks, but what she's really saying is  _ did someone else do what I never got the chance to,  _ and his  _ yes _ is no more a comfort than it is a blow to her heart. 

 

"I've been so alone," Clary tells him, eyes flicking open. "I learned to love myself like no one else can. I think it's better this way, at least for now. I just- I wish I wasn't alone in being alone like this." 

 

"It's probably not the best timing," Jace admits, reaching up to touch the back of her hand, giving her a small smile, "but I can't let it go. I'm- fuck, Clary, I've never felt like this before." 

 

"You did," Clary counters, eyes sad, "once." 

 

Jace swallows and shakes his head. "No, I didn't. This is- it's… not like us. We were bright and burning, but that went out over and over, and now it's out for the last time. But this? It's  _ peaceful.  _ I'm safe; I've never been safe before, not like this, not even with you." 

 

Clary blinks, leaning back a little to stare at him, her lips parting in surprise. "Oh," she chokes out, blinking around sudden tears, "this is it. This is what Alec was telling me about."  

 

"What did he say?" 

 

"That Shadowhunters fall in love,  _ truly  _ fall in love, just once. They love one fiercely and forever. I thought- well I'd assumed it was us, but I- I think we didn't even come close. We were never like Magnus and Alec. But this, what you've got, this is it, isn't it? You've found the one?" 

 

Jace squeezes her hand, leaning into her palm, staring at her pleadingly, needing something but having no idea what. "Yes, I found it." 

 

"Oh, Jace," Clary says with a wet laugh, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. She pulls back and drops her hand, eyes soft. "It's okay, Jace, it's okay. I'd never- god, how could you think I'd ever hold it against you? It's okay, I'm  _ happy  _ for you." 

 

"Thank you," Jace mumbles, stumbling forward to hug her, burying his face in her hair. 

 

Clary sighs and holds on. They stay like that for longer than a hug should be, but there's something important happening here. Jace isn't sure what, not until they break apart, and he abruptly realizes that she's setting him free, absolving him of his guilt. Jace feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and Charles was right, this went  _ nothing  _ like he'd expected. 

 

Then, Clary gives an awkward smile and asks, "So, who is she? Do I know her?" 

 

Jace thinks  _ uh oh  _ and freezes. He doesn't even know where to begin, not really, so he risks a look at Simon, hoping for solidarity. Simon looks as lost as Jace feels, his hands fidgeting with his shirt, eyes wide with telling guilt. They have a conversation with their eyes, both sharing looks to try and get the other to broach the subject. In the end, Jace wins. 

 

"Uh, Fray," Simon starts awkwardly. 

 

"Oh my god," Clary blurts out, her eyes wide in shock, and yep, she definitely knows. "You two are-  _ Simon's  _ the girl?" 

 

Simon frowns. "Not actually a girl, but uh-" 

 

"Woah, okay, just- wow, just give me a second." Clary stumbles back and sits down on her bed, eyes wide in surprise. "I mean, they  _ told  _ me you'd both gotten closer. I just- I had no idea. And I saw you guys before you left, but I just thought- well, I didn't  _ think  _ anything. I'm not even sure where to- how did this- how  _ long  _ has this- do I even want to- you know what? No, I'm not-  _ no.  _ Nope." 

 

"I love him," Simon says seriously, moving over to sit beside Clary and grab her hand, staring into her eyes. "He loves me. It didn't just happen; it was gradual, natural. It works, it  _ really  _ works, frighteningly well actually. It's that simple." 

 

"So, not simple at all?" Clary snips sarcastically, eyes still wide. "I can't  _ believe  _ that- holy shit. Okay, so we've all dated. Wow, that's- this is like high school, except high school was a lot easier. Should I be okay with this?" 

 

"You're my best friend," Simon reminds her firmly, one eyebrow arching up. 

 

Clary clears her throat and nods, looking a little stunned. "Yeah, of course I am." 

 

"You love Jace," Simon says slowly. 

 

"Not sure about that one actually," Clary admits sardonically. "But I definitely do love him, even if it's not romantic." 

 

Simon hums. "Exactly. And you want us to be happy. We just happen to be happy together. It's not- it isn't ideal for you, if you're in love with him, but we made a pact, remember? After the seelie court." 

 

"Yeah, I remember." Clary nods and takes a deep breath. "Okay, I just- I don't really know how I feel about it. I'll need time. Can I-" 

 

"Yeah, of course," Simon says quickly, dropping a kiss to her forehead and hopping to his feet. "We do this thing every week where everyone comes over for dinner at ours. I hope you come too." 

 

Clary stares up at them from her bed, her hands twisting into her covers. "Maybe. I don't know. I'll- I guess we'll see." 

 

"Clary," Jace mutters, stepping forward, but Clary just holds up a hand, halting him. 

 

"Not yet." Clary clears her throat and rolls her shoulders, not meeting their eyes. "Just give me some time. Just… not yet." 

 

Defeated, Jace nods. "Okay," he whispers. 

 

"Come on," Simon says gently, grabbing Jace's arm and tugging him from the room. 

 

The door shuts with a click and they don't get to take one step away before they hear Clary's heart wrenching sobs behind them. 

 

It hurt to walk away, but they do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN... Yeah, so basically, the basis of this entire fic comes from one miniscule change: Jonathan never grabs Clary's wrist. How wild is that? 
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I really love them! 
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warning for this chap! Just tying up some loose ends ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!

"So," Charles says, shifting in his chair, "you haven't heard from her since?" 

 

Jace tilts his head back and sighs. "Nope. I sent her a text, she never replied, so I've left her alone. I went back to work, she works with me, but she doesn't really hang around me if she can help it. When she  _ is  _ around me, she doesn't really… speak much." 

 

"Give her time," Charles murmurs kindly, eyes softening. "How long has it been? What, five days? What about your boyfriend? Has he heard from her at all?" 

 

"Yeah, they've texted a little, but he says it's stilted. He says she needs time and space, so he's respecting that. But, according to him, she's coming over for dinner today, so I dunno." 

 

"And how do you feel after telling her everything?" 

 

"Better? Worse? I don't know." Jace heaves a sigh and scoots down in the seat, reaching up to fiddle with his hair so he doesn't have to look Charles in the eyes. "I'm glad it's out there, but I just- I hoped I'd feel less… guilty." 

 

"Why do you feel guilty?" 

 

"Because I can't love her, because I love him instead. It's not- it's fucked up." 

 

Charles hums quietly. "I once had sessions with a woman who'd been married to a gay man for nearly ten years. He didn't realize until after they'd had kids, or maybe he'd repressed it, I'm not sure; either way, he fell in love with a man. She was distraught at first, thought something was wrong with her, even went as far to think it was her fault." 

 

"This isn't that," Jace says sharply, dropping his hands and glaring at Charles. 

 

"No," Charles agrees, "it isn't. It is, however, very similar. It took some time, but she grew to accept it. She didn't resent him in the end; in fact, he became her best friend. She was his best man at his second wedding, smiling as he married his new husband. She told me that it was bittersweet, but there was something inherently special about watching someone you love be truly happy. Like I said, give Clary some time."

 

"I am, I'm trying to," Jace mutters, wrinkling his nose and tipping his head to the side. "I know it's not right for me to expect her to just- to instantly be okay with it, supportive even. She has her own shit to sort through. I just want things to be easier on everyone, especially her." 

 

"Life is rarely easy, Jace," Charles tells him sagely, his smile sad and small, "but it is always worth it. We do what we can, that's all we can do. My advice? I think you should keep fighting for it to be easier, because when it eventually becomes so, all that fight will have been worth it." 

 

"Fuck," Jace grumbles, "I hate it when you're sensible." 

 

Charles winks. "I'm always sensible." 

  
  
  


 

* * *

  
  
  


Jace and Simon hadn't been able to settle after their talk with Clary, both shaken up by the sound of her sobs as they left. They'd stopped by to say hi to everyone else before making a quick escape, only after inviting them over to dinner. Back home, they hadn't really known what to do with themselves. 

 

It was Simon who had suggested redecorating the apartment. 

 

Jace won't ever admit it, not even to save his life, but he  _ loves  _ decorating shit. His room, back at the institute, has been through so many changes over the years that it isn't even funny. He likes change when he can control it - moving the bed, putting the dresser against a different wall, rearranging his closet, buying new sheets for a different color scheme. In his room at the institute, Jace had a golden themed room; before that, it had been black. 

 

This apartment though… it had no piece of him at all. It was all Simon, which was fine. Jace hadn't really cared, not having any space of his own at all anyway. Besides, it isn't as if he'd ever officially moved in; he just… never left. 

 

But then, they stand around with nothing to do with themselves, and Simon says, "Hey, why don't we redecorate?" 

 

It's all downhill from there. 

 

They spend five days turning the apartment from just Simon's to  _ theirs,  _ and it's a true first test to their relationship. Simon truly hadn't been prepared for Jace to be so invested in the decorating process, and Jace tries to go easy on him, but the thing is… he's a bit of a control freak when it comes to his space. And it's  _ Simon's  _ fault, really. 

 

Standing in the home decor section of Wal-Mart, Jace turns to Simon and says, "Well, it's your apartment, so what do you like?" 

 

Simon looks at him funny and replies, "Actually, it's  _ ours.  _ Well, I'm hoping it's ours, if you're… okay with that? So, uh, it's what  _ we  _ like, really." 

 

So, yes, it's Simon's fault. 

 

It's five days worth of bickering over bookcases and throw pillows and  _ you can't get an orange coffee table with a black couch, seriously who raised you,  _ and that leads to a yelling match about what candles they want to burn in the apartment, and Jace has never had so much fun in his entire life. Between Jace Shadowhunting and Simon playing at that coffee shop, they both rearrange the apartment into something that's for them. It's a process, a tiring one, and they have to seperate sometimes before they go hoarse from screaming at each other, but it gets done. 

 

Simon puts the final touches while Jace is at therapy, just a few hours before they host dinner for their friends and family, and when Jace walks in the door, he has to stop and evaluate. 

 

They've rearranged the living room entirely, opened the space up, and added a rug that doesn't really match - Jace had been firmly against it, but Simon refused to budge, so here it sits anyway. They officially moved their pillows and covers back to Simon's room and took to sleeping in the bed again, and since they're dating, it's not even weird. They changed up the room a little too, added some of the clothes Jace managed to take from the institute to the closet, doubled up the book collection, even drew a couple of Shadowhunter runes next to the star of David on the chalkboard hanging on the back of the door. Jace  _ also  _ managed to talk Simon into letting him get a ceiling mirror to hang over their bed -  _ that  _ had involved a lot of innuendos on Jace's part and a lot of stuttering on Simon's. 

 

All in all, the apartment isn't one person's either way, not just Jace, not just Simon, but a perfect culmination of them both. 

 

Jace  _ loves  _ it. 

 

"I hung up that painting you liked so much," Simon informs him from the kitchen, jerking his head towards the wall where the TV used to sit. "It's a total eyesore, like I told you it would be. Let me take it down, I'm literally begging you." 

 

Jace shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack, cocking his head as he considers the painting. It's a penguin in a meadow, looks completely out of place, but he's standing his ground on this. He  _ likes  _ it, dammit, and he isn't him if he doesn't live for being an asshole. So, as he kicks his boots off, he grins at Simon's reproachful expression.

 

"Nah, I like it," Jace quips. "Whatcha cooking?" 

 

Simon wrinkles his nose. "Clary likes lasagna and Magnus requested pasta, so I'm making a pasta salad and have a lasagna in the oven." 

 

"Too many carbs," Jace says immediately. 

 

"Oh, shut up." Simon groans and tosses his head back, flailing his arms around. "Why can't you just hype me up every once in a while? Oh, honey, I can't wait to eat your immaculate food. Simon, babe, you're the best cook I know. My dear, you put your soul into everything you make." 

 

Jace purses his lips. "Do you even have a soul?" 

 

"See? This is what I'm talking about," Simon mutters, tossing his hands up and heading back into the kitchen, grumbling under his breath. 

 

Jace grins and heads off to the shower. They also decorated the bathroom; he likes most of everything they've done. Simon, however, is a huge jerk who insisted on getting a clock with a duck wrapped around it - Jace glares at it every time he goes into the bathroom. Whatever, everything  _ else  _ is nice and neat, all one color and organized properly. 

 

When Jace has scrubbed away the grime of the day and let the pulsing beat of hot water soothe his aches, he tosses his hair up into a wet bun and slides into Simon's t-shirt and joggers. He has his own clothes from their trips and the ones he smuggled from the institute, but he still throws Simon's on without much thought. Simon doesn't seem to mind, and Jace likes how comfortable they are, so that's what he wears to relax in. 

 

"Smells good," Jace murmurs as he pads into the kitchen, breathing in deep. 

 

Simon throws him a smile over his shoulder, hair a haphazard mess atop his head. "Yeah? It's my mom's recipe. I texted Rebecca and she got it for me. I used to eat it all the time before- well, before." 

 

"I'm sure it'll be just as good." Jace walks over and reaches up to try and fix Simon's hair, running his fingers through it while Simon washes dishes. "Had a good session with Charles today." 

 

"Did you?" Simon asks quietly, humming as Jace lightly scratches at his scalp. 

 

Jace smirks slightly. "Mhm. Talked about Clary." 

 

"And it was good?" 

 

"Don't sound so doubtful. He basically said that things can get easier with time and effort." 

 

"Sounds familiar. Hey, I know a pretty smart guy who said something like that too." 

 

"Nah, definitely wasn't a smart guy at all." 

 

Simon tsks lightly, pulling one soapy hand from the water to lightly smack Jace's shoulder. "Shut up, I'm very smart. I can do taxes and everything." 

 

"Mhm," Jace replies absentmindedly. He drops his hand from Simon's hair, moving over to start rinsing the dishes. "So, Clary is coming for sure?" 

 

"Dunno." Simon shrugs and grimaces. "I texted her again to make sure and her yes flipped to a maybe, so I guess we'll see." 

 

"Guess so," Jace agrees with a sigh. 

 

They talk idly as they finish up the dishes. Jace helps Simon with the pasta salad; it's surprisingly fresh. They set the table, adding a spot for Clary just in case, and the lasagna finishes with enough time to cool before the first knock at the door. Simon has his hands full, so Jace answers it. 

 

"Oh," Magnus says with a little note of surprise as soon as he walks in, "you redecorated." 

 

"Uh," Jace mutters, suddenly awkward, "we got an itch. Where's Alec?" 

 

Magnus waves a hand lazily, eyeing the room curiously. "He had some business to attend to at the institute, but he's on the way. He's bringing dessert; I made a cake." 

 

Jace arches an eyebrow. "You made a cake?" 

 

"Mhm," Magnus confirms, sashaying over to the couch and draping himself on it like its his own. He keeps surveying the room. "It's eight layers and a little lopsided, but it's a good cake. I bake in my free time now, didn't you hear? Alec is making me take up hobbies." 

 

"Is he?" 

 

"Well, I admit, it is a little fun. Anywho, I like what you've done with the place." 

 

"Thanks!" Simon chirps as he darts out the kitchen with a bright smile. "Honest opinion on the painting, go. And  _ don't  _ hold back." 

 

Magnus considers the painting, tilting his head and looking around the rest of the room. "It's… nice," he says slowly. "It's just a bit… tacky." 

 

"Ha!" Simon exclaims, eyes brightening as he points a triumphant finger at Jace. "Told you. It's horrible and out of place and we're taking it down." 

 

Jace adopts a hurt look and places a hand over his heart. "You wound me, sweetheart, really," he says, then flicks Simon his middle finger. "Fuck off, it's staying. It's on my bucket list." 

 

"That doesn't even make sense." 

 

"Your face doesn't make sense." 

 

Simon puts both hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows. "Shut up, you love my face. Take the painting down." 

 

Jace crosses his arms. "No." 

 

"Take. It.  _ Down."  _

 

_ "No."  _

 

"Jace, light of my life, sunshine in human form, literal pain in my ass,  _ please  _ take the painting down." 

 

"Simon, no." 

 

"You're a horrible person, I hope you know that," Simon mutters, scowling and stomping back into the kitchen. 

 

Jace heaves a sigh and takes the painting down. 

 

After, Magnus looks at him in faint amusement and asks, "So you're together now, right?" 

 

"Clary didn't mention it?" Jace asks cautiously. 

 

"No. Biscuit hasn't mentioned much when it comes to you or Simon, not since you got back from your second road trip." 

 

"Oh. Well, yeah, we- yeah." 

 

Magnus hums and nods. "He's a good person. I'm happy you two found each other." 

 

"Don't tell anyone,  _ especially  _ not Simon," Jace says, rolling his eyes, "but so am I." 

 

"I can hear you," Simon informs him, flitting out the kitchen to kiss Jace's cheek and beam at the space the painting used to be. 

 

Jace attempts to rearrange his face into a scowl, but he doesn't think he succeeds. Fortunately, there's another knock at the door, so Simon heads over to answer it. Alec marches in with a cake plate balanced on one hand and types on his phone with the other. As soon as he's able, he shoves the cake at Simon and walks over to briefly hug Jace before dropping onto the couch beside Magnus with a groan. Magnus quirks a small smile and reaches up to run his fingers through Alec's hair. 

 

"I hate people," Alec says firmly. 

 

"Me too, buddy, me too," Jace tells him. 

 

Alec shoots him a tired smile, then blinks as he looks around the room. "Hey, you redecorated." 

 

"Yeah," Simon says, coming back out of the kitchen without the cake, "we got an itch. So, why are we hating people today?" 

 

Alec launches into a rant about reports and the Clave and annoying old Shadowhunters too stuck in their ways. Jace listens with half an ear, paying as much attention to it as he can with Simon suddenly walking around in an  _ apron.  _ Why he put that on now, Jace will never know, but the sight is very distracting for reasons he can't decipher. 

 

"Well, I've got some good news," Magnus says with a smirk once Alec's deflated from his tirade. "Guess who owes me twenty dollars?" 

 

Alec frowns. "Who?" 

 

"Izzy," Magnus replies. 

 

That, apparently, tells Alec something about Jace and Simon because he jolts up and stares at them in faint surprise. "So, it happened? Wait.  _ When  _ did it happen?" 

 

"What?" Jace asks warily. 

 

Alec flicks a finger between them. "You know, you two becoming a thing." 

 

Simon shoots Jace a look. "Uh… about three weeks ago?" 

 

"Damn," Alec mutters, "I  _ also  _ owe you twenty bucks, Magnus. Can I just-" 

 

"No way," Magnus snorts, "I expect payment in the form of cash or a blowjob - a minute for every dollar." 

 

Alec blushes to the root of his hair and Jace can't help but toss his head back and crow with laughter. 

 

Then, another knock at the door, and this brings Izzy into the apartment, with Clary in tow. Alec is still blushing, Magnus is still smirking, and Jace's laughter has evaporated like smoke. Simon clears his throat and disappears into the kitchen, escaping probably, and Jace wants to follow, but he knows that isn't exactly appropriate considering everything. Still, he thinks about it. 

 

Clary jerks out a container full of brownies, her eyes a little wide. "I made these. They have nuts."

 

Jace squints at her. "Is that a gay joke?" 

 

Clary's eyes go even wider. "Oh god, you're  _ gay?"  _

 

From the kitchen, Simon's laughter can be heard from everyone. Jace gives her a lopsided grin and feels as if everything might be okay, eventually. Maybe Charles had something to his advice. 

 

"Nah," Jace tells her, "I'm fucking with you. I'm bisexual. Thank you for the brownies; Simon made you lasagna." 

 

"Really?" Clary's eyes light up. "Can I-" 

 

"Yeah, go ahead," Jace says easily, jerking his head to the kitchen. He watches her go with a soft look, a curl of warmth unraveling in his chest. 

 

"I owe you twenty bucks, don't I?" Izzy grumbles, arching an eyebrow at Magnus. 

 

Alec clicks his tongue. "Don't feel bad, so do I." 

 

"I can't believe you guys made a  _ bet  _ on us," Simon mutters as he walks out the kitchen without his apron on, Clary's arm threaded through his. "That's a low blow." 

 

Clary frowns at them. "Were you two really that bad? There was never any bet for me with either of you. Why didn't I get bet on?" 

 

"Sorry, Clary," Izzy says, sounding anything but, "it's just that they're literally the  _ worst.  _ Take it as a compliment, really. Simon made Jace eat yogurt; it was a whole thing." 

 

Jace wrinkles his nose. "He thinks that it's compromising just because it's mango flavored, but it's  _ really  _ not. Simon doesn't compromise for shit. He made me take my painting down and everything." 

 

"It was tacky," Simon snips, shooting him a glare. 

 

"Huh," Izzy notes in surprise, "I just noticed! You guys redecorated." 

 

Jace shares a small smile with Simon, and in perfect unison, they announce, "We got an itch." 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The thing is, it's not all that simple. 

 

Clary makes an effort, but there's a lot of lulls. It happens when they talk about things she wasn't here to witness; it happens when Jace grabs Simon's hand without thinking; it happens when Simon reminds Jace to eat. She gets this look on her face, something stilted and heartbroken, and Jace can see her trying to tuck it away, trying to hide how it rips her up inside to see the ease everyone has that she can't work herself into. There's a lot of jokes she doesn't get, a lot of memories she isn't a part of, a lot of looks not focused on her. 

 

Jace can tell that it's easier with Simon for her. Clary laughs over lasagna and touches him like the contact has never been something she has to hold back from. There are moments, of course - Simon teases Jace, or he mindlessly touches him, or he looks at him with unashamed affection - and Clary jolts like she's just remembering that her best friend is in love with a guy she used to claim as her own. But it doesn't seem to anger her, maybe just stings a little, and she moves on. 

 

With Jace though, it's different. 

 

He gets why. Simon isn't the guy she expected to come home to; he isn't the one she lost. He's just her best friend, not the guy who broke her heart, and maybe she can't even resent him for loving Jace, maybe she understands all too well. Jace, however. Yeah, that's a different story. Every time she looks at him, it's like she's watching cities crumble into ash - a harrowing sight, yet inevitable all the same. 

 

Jace wants to soothe her, but he has no idea how. He can't just tell her that they'll stay friends; that's not a comfort, not when she expected to be more. That's what  _ he  _ wants. It's a bitch of a situation, complicated and complex, full of too many layers and twists, and it's so exhausting. 

 

The others know, Jace can tell. Izzy is a literal saint because she steers the conversation most of the time, helping them dodge awkward moments like she's an expert at it. Alec isn't the best at it, but he excels in subject change, pulling random shit out of the air that's just enough of enticing that they forget what they're avoiding. Magnus is the type to talk about problems that aren't his own, so he wisely follows Alec's lead and offers as much inane chatter as he can. Jace wants to grip their shoulders, look deep into their eyes, and profess his undying devotion; seriously, he loves them so fucking much for their help getting through this dinner. 

 

He thinks that, right up until the others have extracted themselves from the apartment entirely, in such a way that he barely notices. They take Simon too, which leaves him alone with Clary. As soon as he realizes this, he decides he hates them all and will plan revenge in excruciating detail later, if he makes it through this interaction. 

 

"Lasagna was good," Clary comments, helping him gather the dishes off the table. 

 

Jace is not good at this, not at all. He's  _ fantastic  _ at avoiding problems, just marching right on like he can leave them in the dust. He wants to do that, but the faint image of Simon and Charles looking at him in disapproval flickers mockingly in his mind. 

 

So, Jace clears his throat and says, "We don't have to do small talk, Clary. If you don't want to talk, we don't have to." 

 

"And if I do?" she challenges. 

 

"Then we will," Jace replies calmly, sitting the dirty dishes down and staring at her seriously. She deserves that, deserves to say whatever it is she needs to say, and maybe he deserves to hear it. 

 

Clary looks a little surprised, bites her lip, then flops down into a chair like all her strings have suddenly been cut. "We could've had something, you know. We really could have." 

 

"Yeah," Jace agrees, because maybe they could have, because it's true. 

 

"But not really, not if we think about it. I've been thinking about it." Clary stares at him, lips tipped down at the corners. "It wasn't- it was never going to work out, was it? Even if- even without all the extra bullshit, it would've ended." 

 

Again, Jace repeats, "Yeah," because that's also true, and  _ fuck,  _ that's so fucked up. 

 

"We loved too hard, maybe? No, that's not it. What was it, Jace? Why didn't we fit?" Clary looks a little lost, eyes a little wild, fingers twisted together far too tight. "Where did we go wrong?" 

 

"It's like that fire, the one that got you home. It burned bright, but it still went out. I didn't know it, not until Simon, but when you're with the right one, you're supposed to be free." Jace quirks a small, bitter smile. "We were chained to each other, by so many different things, and if it had just been Valentine and an anti-love potion and a wish to bring me back to life, then maybe it would've been different. But that wasn't all; we were chained together, burning each other up, because of  _ us."  _

 

Clary stares at him for a long, tense moment. She swallows thickly. "I stopped doing art when I first met you, did you know? I didn't even want to for a long time, just because I wanted you more. I didn't know that- I never realized that I was losing myself because I wanted to be lost with you." 

 

"I know. Fuck, I  _ know."  _ Jace releases a deep breath, blinking rapidly. "You taught me about love, taught me something I never knew, and it was a lesson I had to learn. But I figured it out, I think. It's like Alec and Magnus, right? They love each other without ever being consumed. You and I? We consumed each other; it wasn't- it's not  _ wrong,  _ exactly, but it isn't right. You're not supposed to be half of another person, you're supposed to be whole  _ with  _ another person. We didn't know, Clary;  _ I  _ didn't know." 

 

"God," Clary chokes out, reaching up to cover her mouth, tears filling her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know either, I swear I didn't know." 

 

"Hey, no, shh," Jace whispers, scooting around the table to pull up a chair and grab her hands. "Don't do that. You never did anything wrong. You are the best thing that's ever happened to me; you've given me something no one else ever can. Thank you, thank you  _ so much."  _

 

Clary grips his hands in hers, holding on tight, and she looks ashamed when she asks, "How do I let you go? Jace, how do I-" 

 

"You don't," Jace interrupts firmly. "When you love someone, you hold onto them and you  _ don't  _ let go. I'm not letting you go, okay? I'm just readjusting my hold. It'll take some fumbling, but you will too." 

 

"What if I can't?" Clary suddenly looks small and terrified, folding in on herself. "You're so good, Jace. I look at you, and it's wrong, but I just-" 

 

Jace reaches up to cradle her cheek, watching her swallow the rest of her sentence. He knows what she's going to say anyway, so he doesn't let the words exist in the air; he saves her that shame. Instead, he leans forward and gently kisses her forehead, holding the contact as all the tension seeps out of her body. Slowly, achingly slow, he tucks his head down and kisses her cheek.

 

With one kiss to the cheek, they put out the flames and rise from the ashes. Jace feels absolutely nothing kissing her, nothing besides a dull ache of pity for the way it all fell apart. But maybe this is better. Maybe that it falls to ruin from outside forces, rather than internal rot somewhere down the line, is the best case scenario. So, he kisses her cheek, then the other, just a short peck, and Clary doesn't lean into it. When he pulls away, she exhales slowly and opens her eyes, just staring at him. 

 

"When you find the one who makes a home in your heart, you'll laugh about wasting your time on me, the guy who dared to invade it." 

 

"I'll never regret you, Jace." 

 

Jace smiles slightly and strokes her cheek, heart growing when she smiles back. "That's good," he murmurs, "because I have never and will never regret you either." 

 

"I love you," Clary tells him sincerely, and what that means is  _ let me hold you differently.  _

 

"I love you too. Always have, always will," Jace replies just as seriously, and his response is  _ I'll be here while you adjust your grip.  _

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Later, when Jace crawls into bed with Simon, he looks at him and admits, "I kissed Clary." 

 

Simon blinks, then frowns. "Oh. Why?" 

 

"It was just on the cheeks, but uh, she needed it." Jace reaches over the pillow between them and runs a finger over the crinkle between his eyebrows. "It was goodbye and hello, and  _ we  _ needed it. I think we're gonna be okay." 

 

"Ah," Simon says, like he understands. He offers a weak smile, eyes sad. "So, no threesome then?" 

 

Jace huffs a laugh. "No, Simon, no threesome." 

 

"Can't say I'm too mad about it," Simon admits, fluttering his eyelashes like a dork. "I'm pretty good about sharing, but I'm thinking of keeping you all to myself. Hope you don't mind." 

 

"I dunno," Jace jokes, "I think me, you, and Maia would have a great time." 

 

"I'm telling her you said that." 

 

"Please don't." 

 

"Too late." 

 

"I hate you so much." 

 

Simon gives him a sweet smile. "Nah, you don't." 

 

"You're right," Jace agrees softly, "I really don't." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so soft omg
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to drop off some kudos and please leave a comment; I really adore them!
> 
> Ta!
> 
> -SOBS


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This eases through the following years after the previous chapter and is written as an epilogue of sorts. 
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: minor character death, a child in pain, general mixtures of fluff and angst. 
> 
> See end notes for more in depth explanation of the first two warnings!
> 
> Enjoy!

It's not the life he expected to end up living. 

 

He'd had a pretty good idea where it was going to go, back before it all derailed so quickly. This wasn't foreseen, nor was it predictable. Jace doesn't usually like surprises or unexpected twists in his life, but this one turns out to be his favorite. 

 

They keep going, taking it one day at a time. It's not so much as simple as it is possible; that's the stark difference between living for yourself and living for others, he thinks - simplicity vs possibility. It is simple to drag in breath after breath so he won't let those he loves down, but the possibility to breathe for himself, to keep going because he knows he wants to… well, it feels like casting a net at the stars and never being burned by the supernovas that he drags in. 

 

A day bleeds into another, drifts into a week, slides into a month, then flops into six, and a year passes like nothing before it had been counted. 

 

Simon has a mark on his forehead, Jace questions his reality, Clary murdered her brother, Izzy still craves a bite, Magnus snaps his fingers and feels empty, and Alec shoots arrows until his hands bleed on his bad days. It's not even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to everything they've been through, not even a glimpse into the tragedies they've faced. 

 

And yet. 

 

Simon laughs loud and enthusiastic, Jace goes to therapy once a week, Clary learns to love herself, Izzy is proud of her own achievements, Magnus picks up yoga and bakes cakes, and Alec offers his office and his ear to anyone who needs it. They are greater than the sum of their broken parts, measuring up to much more than just their happiest moments, and most importantly, they're alive. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Charles gets sick. 

 

Jace isn't prepared for it. He's been visiting this man nearly once a week like clockwork for over a year. It's after the timer goes off that Charles tells him, eyes gentle and smile kind. It's cancer, unbeatable and too far along, and Charles calmly explains that he has a few months to live, at most. 

 

That is their last session. 

 

However, Jace visits him twice before he passes away, meets Marcus and shakes his hand. The first visit is in the early stages of sickness; Charles is all smiles and creaking bones, grumbling about medicine and offering Jace more cookies than he can possibly stomach. The second visit is in the late stages of sickness; Charles is laid up in bed in his living room, breath rattling out of his chest, eyes glazed over as  _ Law and Order _ plays on in the background. The difference in between those two visits, in just a few short months, is grotesque and truly horrifying - Charles goes from being plump and chipper to being practically skin and bones with barely the energy to muster a smile. 

 

Marcus, who has taken to Jace quite well, calls him the morning Charles passes away, chokes around a sob as he says  _ he's gone, oh god, he's gone.  _

 

Jace goes to see Maryse, folds into her arms and cries harder than he has in a long time. She doesn't ask any questions, just curls up in her lumpy bed and holds him, never complaining about the hot tears he spills against her throat. There are some things, he learns, that only mothers can help with. 

 

The funeral is a beautiful event. Everyone goes with him, which Jace thinks about protesting, but then he realizes that Charles would want him to have a support system through this. That's how Jace ends up in the back row with six others that Charles knew from his stories, even if he never knew their names, and when they're walking outside, Clary points out a butterfly that lands on Jace's arm, and Jace breaks down and cries yet again. 

 

The Jace from a year ago would have scoffed at him now; Charles is just a silly mundane, after all. But he's not that Jace anymore, hasn't been in a long time, so he finds himself thinking of Charles in the days following his death - and, incidentally, for the rest of his life. 

 

Jace knows he should get another therapist, and he will, with time, but until he's ready, he gets a notebook and writes everything down once a week. He starts each entry with:  _ Dear Charles.  _

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Magnus and Alec adopt a little blue boy named Max, an adorable little Warlock that has a tendency to turn into a bat to avoid changing his outfits. He also blows raspberries at Jace whenever he so much as touches Simon - it seems that Max is enamored with Simon, in the way only a toddler can be, and wants all his attention. 

 

Jace loves Max with his whole soul. He shifts into the family like there's been a spot waiting the whole time. Plus, it's so exciting that Magnus and Alec are  _ parents  _ \- and it's totally on purpose, which Jace is completely ecstatic about. Imagine that, loving someone so much that you want to share the experience of molding a tinier person into who they're going to be. Jace looks at Simon, thinks  _ huh, imagine that.  _

 

Still, Jace doesn't dwell on that too much. Magnus and Alec are married with a child; it's so surreal sometimes that Jace often has to ask Simon if it's real at all. (It always is.) 

 

More often than not, when Magnus and Alec are busy, or just need the break, Jace and Simon end up babysitting. Simon is probably Max's favorite uncle, Jace can admit that, but he has years and years to change Max's mind. Simon's only his favorite now because he can move really fast, plays silly games with him, has a good singing voice, and has a very expressive cartoon-esque facial structure. But as soon as Max starts talking, it's over for everyone - Jace has his plan already set in place. 

 

The fact that Max is a Warlock who will outlive pretty much everyone  _ except  _ Simon (including his parents, one of which  _ used  _ to be immortal) probably has nothing to do with their connection; it has to be a coincidence, there's no way a one-year-old subconsciously knows that only one person is sincere when they promise to be there forever. 

 

Fuck, Jace  _ hopes  _ he doesn't realize that. 

 

Either way, the sight of Simon and Max together never fails to make Jace's insides turn into goo. If he had one, his biological clock would be on the fritz from the mere glimpse of Max giggling as Simon pretends to try and eat his small fists. Fortunately, he doesn't have a clock;  _ unfortunately,  _ he does have a heart, so that's pretty much malfunctioned forever now. Simon and babies is not something he ever prepared for, which he now regrets. 

 

Max's first word is  _ "Si!"  _

 

Jace blurts outs, "Fuck," and knows he's screwed. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


He goes back to therapy after the first time he has a panic attack around Max. The poor kid isn't sure what the hell is going on when Simon suddenly puts him in his playpen and helps Jace through it. Max has no idea that his innocuous comment that he saw Lilith manges to break Jace apart without much effort. He doesn't understand, Jace doesn't expect him to, and it's the first panic attack he's had in nearly a year. 

 

Turns out, Lilith is just the little girl he goes on play dates with, but Jace figures that's not really the point. 

 

His new therapist is a woman who goes by Ms. Tracy. She's a no-nonsense kind of woman, can call him on his bullshit with one quirk of her eyebrow, and most of her advice is fairly straightforward. She's not Charles, there will never be another Charles, but Jace likes her. 

 

It's nice to be back in therapy; it's with Ms. Tracy that he discovers he should probably mention to Simon - at some point, no rush - that he's thinking about marriage and kids and things like that, no big deal. Except, you know, Jace has changed drastically over the years, but he still avoids most of his problems like it's a sport. 

 

In the end, Ms. Tracy arches an eyebrow for longer than normal, and Jace really isn't a match for that at all - he slinks over to Clary's apartment and sits her down to have a terrifying conversation. 

 

"Oh," she says in faint amusement, "gonna finally pop the question, are you?" 

 

Jace glares at her over her stupidly beautiful kitchen table (that she painted, by the way) and huffs a harsh breath of annoyance. "Don't act like this is something I should've already been thinking about; it's  _ not."  _ He blinks, heart dropping. "Right? Is it?" 

 

"Oh, you're so clueless." Clary tilts her head, lips curling up in amusement. "I can't believe I was ever hung up on you, Jace. You suck at romance." 

 

And yeah, she had been, just for a little while. She'd adjusted, just like he knew she would, and she'd moved on, taking it all in stride. She's just that kind of person; she comes out on the other side of things stronger, especially when it would have torn so many countless others down. She's good now, practically treats it like a good laugh, and if Jace isn't mistaken, she's been seeing some Shadowhunter from the New Jersey institute; he's apparently considering a transfer, and after meeting Clary, he seems pretty set in stone about moving here. Jace hasn't met the guy yet, but he hopes he's a good person with a bright personality, just like Clary. 

 

Either way, that's not the point. 

 

"We've only been dating for two years," Jace mumbles, twisting his fingers together anxiously, chewing his lip. "I just- I want it to be natural, okay? No rush, no holding back, just- just us doing it because it feels right, you know?" 

 

"Yeah," Clary says with a wistful sigh, "I get that. So, let me ask you this. Does it feel right?" 

 

Jace thinks about that seriously, then gives her a sheepish smile. "Honestly… yeah." 

 

"Which means you want me to come with you to pick out a ring, right?" 

 

"You're his best friend. I'm cutting corners, but it's all in the name of love; I just want him to be happy." 

 

"Yeah, yeah, save it for Simon." 

 

As it turns out, it  _ is  _ right. 

 

They both pull out rings at the same time, which everyone thinks is  _ hilarious,  _ but Jace stares at Simon and tries with valiant effort not to cry. Apparently, while Jace had been running around with Clary to plan the perfect proposal and finding a ring, Simon had been doing the same exact thing with Alec. 

 

It's just nice, is all, to be in sync with someone like this. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


They get married on a quiet Tuesday morning. Jace has exactly zero panic attacks, but he does manage to bring nearly everyone to tears with his vows, including - shockingly enough - Alec. Less shocking, Simon blubbers through them, then sniffles and announces, "Shit, I shoulda went first." 

 

Luke had walked Simon down the aisle, cried through the entire ceremony, then proceeded to get his act together in just enough time to sweep Maryse off her feet and onto the dance floor. Because Jace is a little shit, he cuts in and twirls a laughing Maryse away, leaving Simon and Luke to awkwardly linger on the dance floor. Magnus is dancing with Izzy, their movements fluid and flashy, smiles bright. Alec, however, is on the edge of the dance floor with Max in his arms, cooing at him and swaying in gentle circles like maybe they're dancing too. Clary is at the refreshments table with Elijah, her boyfriend of three months, and her smile is so blinding that it could rival the sun. By the time he circles back around with Maryse in his arms, he's warm and content, feeling drunk on love for his family, and the sight of Luke and Simon casually swaying together in a slow circle - looking very much the roles of father and son with Simon babbling and Luke nodding indulgently to whatever he's saying - makes Jace smile widest of all. 

 

They have the last dance of the night. No one leads, not really. They hold onto each other and sway. Jace leans his forehead against Simon's, closes his eyes, and feels every moment of this night stretch forever into his heart. 

 

They leave that night for their Honeymoon - a tradition they've warped to fit themselves. They pack some bags and get into Simon's van, driving on their third road trip without a true destination in mind. There's no illusion for bucket lists, nothing they're trying to escape; this is just the two of them leaving for them, aware that they'll be back. 

 

That night, after so long, Jace moves the hotel pillow they've stuffed between them and cuddles close to Simon shamelessly. 

 

He doesn't have a nightmare at all. 

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Jordan shows up in their apartment about two months after they'd gotten married. Simon's watching Jace eat some dollar store chocolate with rapt attention and an immeasurable amount of jealousy. Jace may or may not be exaggerating his elated groans because he's an asshole who likes to see his husband suffer (and anyway, Jace will let him lick the aftertaste out of his mouth in a moment, which is as close to eating as Simon gets these days).

 

One second, Jace is playing it up on the couch, hiding a grin while Simon looks like he can't decide whether to drool or fold over in pain; the next second, Jace is flipping over the back of the couch without warning and pinning Jordan to the floor. 

 

"Damn," Simon says, frowning, "I didn't even hear him come in." 

 

Jordan wheezes around a growl, baring his teeth at Jace. "Came in through my old window," he spits, shoving at Jace to let him up. 

 

Jace doesn't. "Ever heard of knocking?" 

 

"Or calling?" Simon suggests, equally unimpressed. 

 

"Let me up," Jordan snaps. 

 

Jace looks at Simon. He's still pinning Jordan to the floor, one knee digging into his chest firmly, not budging an inch. He's even grabbed the dagger from the potted plant by the window, leaving soil all over the rug that Simon will fuss about later, and Jace will vacuum it up while rolling his eyes. Jordan attempts to get up yet again, eyes glowing green this time, and Jace simply arches an eyebrow at Simon. 

 

"What do you want?" Simon asks with a sigh. 

 

"Figured out how to get rid of that blasted mark. I suppose you want to know?" Jordan turns dimming eyes to Simon, lips tipping down. "Now, can you get a leash on your boyfriend already?" 

 

Simon is quiet for a moment, his throat clicking in the silence, then he says, "Husband, actually, and I don't  _ make  _ him do anything." 

 

Which, that's not entirely true. Just last night, Simon made him take a bubble bath and relax after a taxing day hunting rogue vampires, but Jace isn't sure if that counts. And if it doesn't, there's plenty that Simon has him do in the bedroom - of the naked variety - but it is certainly consensual. Whatever, that's probably not what Jordan means anyway. 

 

Jace waits. Simon nods. Just like that, Jordan is left alone sprawled out on the floor. With eyes narrowed, Jace plops down on the couch beside Simon, fingering the dagger pointedly, and Simon eyes him fondly. 

 

"Yeah, no leash at all," Jordan mutters, rolling to a standing position smoothly. 

 

Just for that remark, Jace flings out the dagger with sharp precision, barely missing Jordan's face and ruffling his hair. The dagger embeds into the wall and Jordan stiffens, which is exactly the reaction Jace desired, even if Simon will make him replaster the wall later. But that's okay; Jace will do it shirtless and Simon will get distracted and they'll probably fuck on the rug while the plaster dries. 

 

Simon does not show just how annoyed he is by the dagger and tilts his head as he leans back against Jace's side. "So, what's the deal with my forehead?" 

 

"Well, we can get rid of it, then I'll be free to leave and never have to come back here." 

 

"Sounds good to me." 

 

In the end, Simon's forehead stops glowing whenever someone comes at him, Jace ends up nearly in tears after an  _ amazing  _ orgasm as the plaster dries on the wall, and Jordan never sneaks into their apartment ever again. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


There's a special case - a little girl gets attacked in the streets of New York. Jace finds her after, takes her to the only person he knows can help. Maia tells him sadly that she probably won't make it through the full moon, so young and so injured, which leaves her three nights of life. 

 

Despite telling himself not to, he gets attached to her almost instantly. Half of her face is marred by claw marks; the wounds are puffy and painful, so Jace brings her ice cream and tells her stories about Disney princesses - he never expects to be thankful for Simon making him watch them until then. 

 

"My name is Olivia," she confides on the second night, the most she's said outside of whimpers of pain, and she slurps on the milkshake he's brought her, one eye swollen shut. 

 

Jace takes a deep breath, feels as if his heart is breaking in two. "Well, Olivia," he whispers, "it's really nice to meet you." 

 

Her parents didn't make it out of the attack alive; she never asks, but Jace is fairly certain she knows. She was there after all, had to see them bleed out on the pavement. But on the night of the full moon, she calls out for her mom in a small voice, tears falling out of both her perfect eye and her marred one. Maia escorts him and Simon outside, padlocks the door, and promises that she'll handle it. 

 

It's a daunting reminder of what the Shadow World is, not that he needs it. This life, this world, it's dark and harrowing, shoveling out pain like that's all it's capable of. And yet, hope still finds a way to shine through in the end. 

 

Miraculously, Olivia survives. 

 

She's four years old, half of her face is scarred, and she's the youngest werewolf he's ever met. Maia tells him the morning after that it's borderline impossible, yet Olivia is clearly a strong one. 

 

Telling Olivia the truth is a hard endeavor that Jace decides to handle, somehow feeling responsible. Maybe it's because she's young, or maybe it has to do with the fact that she can remember her transition in excruciating detail, but she accepts his explanation easily enough. 

 

All she asks is, "I can't go home?" 

 

"No," Jace murmurs sadly, "you can't. But- but there's options. We'll figure something out, I promise." 

 

Olivia stares at him for a long moment, her face healed but still bareing scars, and she mumbles a quiet, "I want to stay with you." 

 

Her voice is so soft and small, tired with a plea, and Jace looks over his shoulder at Simon with wide, hopeful eyes. He can't help it, he  _ really  _ can't. He just loves her, just like that, and wants her bad enough to ask for it - that's really saying something, considering who he is exactly. Simon, the pure soul that he is, simply sniffles and bobs his head so hard that it might fall off. 

 

It's a whole process, a lot of boxes to check, plenty of hoops to jump through, but after two months, Olivia is brought to the door with only a small pink bag and a lumpy stuffed tiger under her arm. 

 

Jace didn't know it was possible to love someone as much as he loves Simon, yet in such a different way, but it's inevitable when it comes to Olivia. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Raising Olivia is… hard. 

 

She's been through a lot. She's gone mute, not saying one word after confessing that she wanted to stay with Jace, and that's- it's okay. 

 

Jace can roll with that,  _ does  _ roll with that, in fact. He gets it, not wanting to talk. It doesn't make it any easier when Alec brings Max over and Jace hears his pealing laughter next to Olivia's silence. He and Simon talk about it a lot, at a loss about what they should do, and it's Izzy who suggests therapy. Jace feels like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner. 

 

He doesn't really know how it works, going to therapy and not saying anything, but Olivia seems better off for it. Time, of course, helps as well. The farther they get from the incident that changed her life, the more open Olivia becomes. She still doesn't talk, but she smiles and grows more affectionate, quicker to initiate contact than before. 

 

They start up a routine. Every morning, Jace sits out the table and eats cereal with her, watching reruns of  _ Tom and Jerry _ \- her favorite show - and narrating in funny voices to watch her shoulders shake in silent giggles. When he leaves for work, Simon takes her to school - a special one that's just for kids in the Shadow World, one that Simon jokingly refers to as Professor Xavior's school for gifted youngsters, and Jace  _ hates  _ that he gets that reference. Simon picks her up, unless he has a gig - and, in that case, Jace gets to leave work early,  _ or  _ Maryse grabs her and spends the afternoon with her. On the days that Simon doesn't have a gig, he takes her home, and there's always dinner waiting for Jace when he gets home. He and Olivia eat together while Simon blabs on at the table. And when the night bleeds in, he and Simon put her to bed with a story and her pink night light highlighting the room that used to be Jordan's a long time ago. 

 

In all honesty, it's  _ exhausting.  _

 

There are harder moments, even still. Olivia has night terrors, which, honest to god,  _ rips  _ Jace up inside. It's the only time she makes any noise, usually whimpers that has Simon jolting up in the bed; sometimes, he wakes Jace and they handle it together, but after missions that wear Jace out and on particularly grueling days, Simon just leaves him asleep and handles it himself. It's heartbreaking in its entirety, waking her when she's curled in a ball, tears on her cheeks, trembling through a near werewolf transition that she doesn't even mean to initiate. There's not much they can do besides talk to her in soothing tones, staying with her until she drifts back into sleep, updating her therapist about the whole situation. 

 

And when she's being particularly bratty, a thing she is  _ fully _ capable of, she'll turn into a little wolf and trot around with her small snout in the air. Trying to lecture her when she's in this form is a struggle and a half; the little shit will flick her ears at them and give them such an unimpressed look, even as a canine, and Jace will come  _ very  _ close to tearing his hair out. On a few occasions, Simon has tossed his hands up and left Jace to deal with it, which levels out with the amount that Jace has done the same. 

 

One day, when Olivia has stubbornly stayed a wolf for a new record - three days - Jace scoops her up, ignoring her cute little growls, and takes her over to Magnus' apartment. With a huff, he deposits her on the floor with Max and stomps over to the table to flop down beside an equally tired Alec. 

 

"Where's Magnus?" Jace mutters.

 

Alec pushes a hand through his hair, slumping down in his seat. "He found a gray hair yesterday, so he had a meltdown about it. That's not even an exaggeration; he literally freaked out. I sent him to mom, who is probably the only person who can talk some sense into him." 

 

"I'm pretty sure the gray hair has Max's name on it, and has  _ nothing  _ to do with aging." 

 

"Yeah, I told him that, but you know how he is." 

 

Jace  _ does  _ know how Magnus is. He's always on the knife's edge between being thankful he's mortal with Alec and being torn up about it. Jace thinks that if he could be mortal with his magic, he'd be perfectly happy, but the world isn't perfect and isn't very giving either. Magnus has gotten better over time, especially with Max, but Jace knows he wakes up most days and feels as if there is something missing. But Jace  _ also  _ knows that Magnus wouldn't ever give up the life he has, not even for all the magic in the world, which says a lot about the life he leads.

 

"Maryse will help," Jace says. "She always does." 

 

"Mhm," Alec agrees, watching Max pull on Olivia's tail with a little smile. "So, what's up with that? Get on her bad side again?" 

 

Jace huffs. "She did not like me and Simon making her change out of her Superman pajamas. Alec, she'd been wearing them for  _ three days;  _ it was time to go, honestly." 

 

"Ah," Alec murmurs delicately, wincing in sympathy, like he's well aware of children and wardrobe meltdowns, which he actually is. "Yeah, Max pitched a fit because we took his little blanket away to wash it. My eyebrows were smoking by the time it was over. Magnus was about to toss him out the window, I could tell. With love, of course." 

 

"Right." Jace snorts and shakes his head, lips curling up in amusement. "Well, at least we're  _ all  _ sucking at this parenting thing. Who gave us the right?" 

 

"Whoever it was, they need to be reprimanded. Most days, it feels like we're fucking him up." 

 

"By the Angel, I have never related to something so hard in my entire life." 

 

Alec heaves a sigh, tilting his head as Olivia chases Max around the room at a careful pace. "They're good kids though; maybe they'll turn out alright despite our messy efforts." 

 

"Are we bad dads?" Jace asks, reaching up to rub at one temple, lips tipping down into a frown. "Alec, I think we're bad dads." 

 

"Yeah," Alec says with a sigh, "probably." 

 

Jace groans and lets his head sink down to thunk on the table. Across from him, Alec makes a despaired sound and sinks farther down into his seat. 

 

A week later, Olivia crawls onto the couch beside him, tucking into his side, and says, "I want a popsicle." 

 

Jace almost fucking  _ cries.  _

 

She talks after that, like she never even stopped, and Jace is so ecstatic that he brings her to the institute and shows off his talking child to anyone who will listen. Simon is equally enamored with the development - he actually  _ does  _ cry when she first speaks to him in a chipper voice, saying, "Good morning, can you make Mickey Mouse pancakes again, with more syrup this time," and Simon gives her all the damn syrup she wants. Her therapist informs them that it's a good sign, that they're doing a good job, and not to be alarmed if she ever goes mute again. 

 

And that's not the part they care about. Jace sits her down with Simon one day and tells her that it's okay if she doesn't want to talk, that she doesn't have to, that they just want her to be okay. It's the first time she tells them that she loves them, and she doesn't talk for three days after, but that's perfectly fine too. 

 

The next time Jace takes Olivia over to Alec's for some play time with Max, she's once again in wolf form, in protest due to Simon revoking her rights to  _ Tom and Jerry _ until she cleans her room (she will, the very next day, and Simon will laugh when he finds all her toys kicked under her bed), and Jace plops down next to Alec yet again, still both equally as exhausted as the last time. 

 

Jace says, "I dunno, Alec, I think we're doing a damn good job overall. We're trying, at least." 

 

"Yeah," Alec agrees, eyes dancing in delight, "I guess you're right about that." 

 

Raising a child is completely and utterly exhausting, but so,  _ so  _ worth it. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


Izzy calls them parabadates. Jace doesn't protest the name, not really, because that's basically what it is. Usually once or twice a month, Alec and Jace leave their kids with their spouses and meet up with Clary and Izzy at some bar to get a little drunk. It evens out with the downworlders days out - as Simon jokingly calls them - where Magnus, Luke, Simon, and Maia go out while Jace and Alec watch their respective children.

 

Izzy and Clary had become parabatai after one particularly rough mission that they'd gotten through by the skin of their teeth. If it hadn't been for how well they worked together and had each other's backs, they'd have never made it out alive; that came with the realization that they wanted to be parabatai, so that's exactly what they'd done. 

 

Now, at least bi-weekly, the two pair of parabatai go on what Izzy likes to call parabadates. 

 

Jace knows something is up the moment that Clary gets a virgin margarita and Izzy smiles behind her glass, eyes bright with joy. It comes out about halfway into their basket of fried pickles, which Clary had insisted on getting. 

 

"I'm pregnant," Clary blurts out, smiling wide and watching them all expectantly. 

 

Jace blinks. Those two words shouldn't surprise him as much as they do. Clary and Elijah had been going strong for awhile now; he's been waiting for a wedding date, actually. They're not even engaged yet, but Jace already knows that they're forever - Elijah loves Clary in a way Jace was never able to, and Clary loves Elijah just the same. 

 

Still, she's  _ pregnant.  _ There's a tiny human growing inside of her. She's going to be a  _ mom.  _ Jace knows it's not the proper reaction, but all he can think is  _ that could have been me,  _ and it's not a thought that's dipped in jealousy, but one of dawning horror - which, he'll never admit to, not even to save his life, but still. Immediately after that admittedly rude thought, the excitement hits him. 

 

"I'm gonna be an uncle," he blurts out, smile growing wide on his face. "Again! Have you told Simon?" 

 

Clary gives him a flat look. "I was in a three-way phone call with him and Izzy while I was taking the test.  _ Of course  _ I told Simon." 

 

Jace harrumphs. "I can't believe he didn't tell me." 

 

"I asked him not to." Clary shrugs, but she has an air of a woman who is very smug. 

 

"You know what this means, right?" Alec leans forward to pin Clary with a serious look. "Grunt work until the baby is born. How far along are you? I have to pull you from missions, you shouldn't even be  _ cleaning!  _ H ow long have you known?" 

 

They all stare at him. His voice has slowly raised into a higher pitch of slight panic. Clary huffs a short laugh and shakes her head. "Relax, Alec," she says fondly, "it's still fairly new. I can still work." 

 

Alec shakes his head firmly. "Absolutely  _ not.  _ I'm not risking anything. Do you have  _ any  _ idea how dangerous is it to- no, you know what, you're on light duty for the rest of the pregnancy. You'll take a few months off after birth, then we can talk about more after that." 

 

Clary arches an eyebrow. "It's my body, Alec, don't tell me what to do with it. I'm fully capable of working, pregnant or not." 

 

"Well,  _ yes,  _ but anything could happen on a mission. Better safe than sorry, right?" Jace asks warily, very firmly on Alec's side. He backtracks when Clary and Izzy both pin him with twin looks of impatience and annoyance. "I- I mean, I don't think you should just stop working, but maybe you shouldn't, uh, be around demons who want to gut you." 

 

"Fair point," Clary agrees lightly, rolling her eyes. "I'll take it easy with the missions, but I'm still working, at least until I can't see my feet anymore." 

 

Izzy beams. "This is so  _ exciting!  _ I can feel it, you know. I knew she was pregnant before she did. It's like… a warmth, right in my chest. Our bond shifted, making room for one more." 

 

"Yeah, she's the one who made me take a test," Clary mutters grudgingly. "It's weird, right? I mean, she feels my baby. Will she feel it kick?" 

 

Jace hums. "It's not weird. Parabatai share souls; the baby has some of your soul too, which means it has a little of Izzy's as well. It's funny because she  _ will  _ feel it kick, but less funny because she'll feel some of your pain when you give birth." 

 

"How'd you know that?" Clary asks in surprise, tilting her head at him. 

 

"He was very excited about becoming my parabatai. I think he read every book on parabatai that there is. It was adorable," Alec explains, grinning as Jace's face floods with color. 

 

"Anyway," Izzy says, "this is so… surreal, isn't it? I mean, we're all growing up! Alec is married with a kid, which is  _ amazing.  _ So is Jace, which is astonishing, really. Mostly because it's with Simon Lewis of all people, but-" 

 

"Hey," Jace interjects, waggling a finger at her with a huff, "I resent that. To be completely fair, I didn't  _ mean to  _ end up with him. It was an accident." 

 

That earns him three unimpressed looks, which, yeah, he guesses that's pretty on brand. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  
  


In between raising a fussy, traumatized four year old (soon to be five) werewolf, working their jobs that they love, and dealing with their own personal issues, Jace and Simon find quiet moments to themselves. 

 

Well, not necessarily quiet. 

 

"Shh, shh," Jace laughs into the skin at Simon's throat, "you'll wake Olivia." 

 

This does not seem to perturb Simon at all; he groans again, arching up. "Shit, Jace, just- can you  _ just-"  _

 

Jace obliges him and starts moving his hips yet again, eyes sinking closed as he releases a soft sigh. Simon's fingers dig into his hips hard enough to bruise, and that's just fine; Jace wants the bruises, wants the reminder that this is real, that it happened, that it felt so good he couldn't care less about how tight Simon grips him. Simon moans again and Jace shuts him up by sealing his mouth over his, swallowing the noises he makes. 

 

And right on the edge, gasping as Jace speeds up, Simon apparently finds religion in Jace's arms because he gasps out, "Oh my god," and comes with a long, drawn out whimper. 

 

That shocks Jace into release, making him spill all over Simon's fist as he rocks down, the angle making sparks shoot through his whole body. He's so stunned by the fact that Simon has just said  _ god  _ that he nearly falls off the bed as he collapses to the side, spent and boneless from his orgasm. 

 

"You said god," Jace blurts out, pillowing his head on Simon's shoulder and gaping at him. 

 

Simon's chest heaves as if he even needs to breathe. He nods, obviously dazed. "I- I didn't even mean to; I just- I wasn't thinking about it." 

 

"The first time you say god in  _ years,"  _ Jace announces with a wicked smile, "and it's during sex." 

 

"I'm going to hell," Simon says solemnly. 

 

Jace snorts. "Well, you should have already known that. It's a given. Blasphemy is a sin and corrupting an angel is a pretty clean cut example of blasphemy. Think twice the next time you fall in love with a half-angel, Simon." 

 

"I hate you." 

 

"Hating angels is also probably a sin." 

 

Simon lightly tugs on Jace's hair, rolling his eyes and mindlessly smacking a kiss to his forehead. "Shut up, you're supposed to comfort me. Also, I just achieved something major. Where's my congratulations?" 

 

"Congrats," Jace says cheekily, watching Simon huff a little. His face softens without meaning to, his eyes scanning Simon's face. "Hey, I am proud of you. Do you want to try again?" 

 

"G- go- g- nope, it was a fluke." 

 

"We could always have sex again and see if-" 

 

"You're literally the worst." 

 

"Shut up, you love me." 

 

"Yeah," Simon says gently, turning surprisingly soft eyes towards him. "You know that, right? That I really do love you." 

 

"Yeah, Simon, I know." 

 

Jace really does. 

  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Life goes on, as life does. 

 

It's hard, it's easy, it's messy, and it's perfect. 

 

Jace doesn't put much stock into what could have been, not like he used to. He has a family, a husband, a child; he's doing a job that he loves; he's still  _ alive.  _ All of those things don't make up for the mental issues he has, but it certainly doesn't hurt to have. And that's what it is, he thinks. 

 

It's not about surviving life, it's about living it - that comes with the good and the bad, each as important as the other, because without one, what does the other even mean? It's not even about surviving himself, it's about accepting himself. He's messed up, he's always  _ going  _ to be messed up, and that is a part of him, even without all the shit he's been through - though that definitely doesn't help. His brain is wired different, that's just how it is, but he isn't impaired; it doesn't mean he can't keep going, can't cope, can't find happiness with who he is and what he's lucky enough to have earned. 

 

See, the thing is, Jace isn't okay, but what he's learned is that he doesn't have to be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor character death - Charles has Cancer and passes away. (To be fair, I did not expect him to be such a beloved OC when I wrote him. Whoops.)
> 
> A child in pain - a young girl gets mauled by a werewolf (but it's okay, I swear). 
> 
> And that's it, fam. Another lengthy story over and done with, this time with less plot and more character focus, but I'm actually pretty proud of this one. I wrote this for myself and others who could benefit from this kind of fic, but any and all interpretations of mental health are firmly from my own experiences. I hope this helped others as much as it helped me to write it. 
> 
> Thank you. I hope you enjoyed. Drop some kudos and leave a comment; I love you for it!
> 
> Ta! 
> 
> -SOBS


End file.
